


Hush: Hiding Out

by HanFai



Series: Hush: Hiding Out [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Disguise, Drama & Romance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Escapees, F/M, Gangsters, Gen, Holding for ransom, Hush: Blurred Alliances, Hush: The Overtaking, Incognito, Kidnapping, Love/Hate, Mobsters, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsession, Old Wounds, On the Run, Original Characters - Freeform, Playboy, Psychological Trauma, References to Depression, Romantic Angst, Soap Opera, Undercover as a Couple, Undercover detectives, Unresolved Romantic Tension, criminals, mansions, sex tafficking, thugs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 56,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanFai/pseuds/HanFai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing someone in a cafe that you haven't seen in six months can be life altering. That is, if that someone broke your heart and ran off without a word as to where they were going. Maybe it was for best that they were no longer in your life. Because meeting them again, somehow gets you sucked back in, and subsequently, makes you the subject of a scary pursuit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Meet Again (under different circumstances)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay. I don't know why I keep coming back to this. It's like a bad relationship. But, I guess I just love Tommy Elliot too much to quit writing him. So, regardless if anyone enjoys reading this or not, I'm doing it anyway for fun! :-)  
> I don't know exactly what I have planned for this series, but it'll come together, hopefully seamlessly, as it progresses through the story.
> 
> ~This is volume three to the original "Hush:The Overtaking" series. Here's the link to volume one:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5018584/chapters/11533309">
> 
> ~To read volume two, "Hush: Blurred Alliances":  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6279121/chapters/14388160">

Susan Garfield finally made it to the front of the line in the sunrise cafe shop. She had spent a good

five minutes staring at the long menu of fabulous frappes, cappuccinos, hot chocolates, and iced

mochas. She knew exactly what she wanted. “I'll have the caramel cappuccino for here, please.” She

told the cashier.

“Alright, that comes to eight dollars and fifty-nine cents.”

“Whoa, eight, fifty-nine? You see why I usually make my own coffee at home?” She went through her

little black purse and got out the exact amount and handed it to the cashier. She then stepped to the side

and got in line behind a man in the pre-ordered line.

She had seen a small glimpse of the man's face in her peripheral vision. Which made her want to take

a double-take, but she was already behind him. He was a tall man, wearing a dark brown flat cap. She

stood behind him and glanced at his brown khaki pants and jacket. She cocked her head and moved in

front of him to get a look at his face. “Excuse me, sir?” She gasped at Bruce Wayne staring back at her.

“Please, tell me you're Bruce Wayne... or so help me God, I'm going to kill you otherwise.”

“Okay, then. I'm Bruce Wayne.” He said, his blue eyes twinkling.

Her eyes widened. “That voice. No way. You're-” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. He bent

down for her to reach his ear as if they were in school, passing along secrets to one another. “You're

Tommy Elliot.”

He stood up straight and looked at her. “Am I now?”

“You think the hat's going to fool me? I can tell you from Bruce Wayne in a heartbeat.”

“No one ever said I was in disguise.” The barista was handing him his cafe Americano at that moment

over the counter. He flashed his eyebrows and smiled at her, “thank you very much.”

The young woman giggled, pulling a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Oh, my pleasure.”

Susan rolled her eyes as she watched the exchange. ' _Just because he's had plastic surgery to make_

_himself the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, doesn't mean you have to “googa” your eyeballs at_ _him.'_

“Susan Garfield.”

She paused at hearing her name. “So, you ' _do_ ' know who I am?”

“Of course I do.” He turned to look at her. “Your drink's ready.”

She blinked her eyes as if to bring her back to reality. “Oh. Yes.” She walked up to the counter and

grabbed her freshly prepared hot beverage.

“Say, you want to sit over there?” He pointed his thumb to a table in the back.

She frowned. “If you're going to try to talk me into forgiving you by feeding me a '  
_bagillion_  
' 

excuses... no, thank you.”

His voice hit an extremely low note before it ascended into an innocent tone. “Nooo. I just wanted to

drink the coffee that cost me one–tenth of what's left of my fortune. You know, before it gets cold.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine. Let's sit at that table, then.”

They made their way to the back of the cafe and sat down across from each other.

“You know how you hated twenty questions?” She asked.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I want to play it with you this time. Remember how I just said that I didn't want to hear any

excuses? Well, I do want to hear just one.” She paused. “Why did you run off six months ago without

me?”

He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he shook his head.

“Well, I'm waiting.”

“Brutal... Susan... brutal.”

“Aren't you?”

He chuckled.

“Same old nervous chuckle, I see.”

He bit his bottom lip and looked down at the table as he lowered his voice. “There were reasons I had

to leave Gotham, and you know it.”

“Yes, perhaps, but without me? And without even telling me you didn't want me along?”

He looked up at her seriously. “Susan, I didn't want you to run away with me. You had your detective

life going. I had nothing. I used to be a doctor. But, no one really wants to be operated on by someone

who is an alleged murderer and subsequently, on the run from the police.”

“I think we both know that 'alleged' is a very loose term in your case.”

He leaned back in his chair and sighed as he stared at her.

“Here's an intimate question for you...”

He lowered his head, glanced down and then turned his eyes up to look at her. “Ooh, intimacy.”

“What is the last thing you think about before you go to sleep every night?”

He stared at her as he let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, just... how it felt to be with you.”

She frowned and opened her mouth slightly, but remained speechless as she shook her head.

He looked down at his cup of coffee and stirred any bubbles around that had surfaced with a spoon.

“Now, I want to ask ' _you'_ twenty questions.”

“What? No. I'm not finished. That's not how this works.”

“Since when do you make all the rules?”

She shook her head and glanced around at the other customers nearby in the cafe, not wanting to make

a scene. “Fine.”

“What's your favorite sexual position?”

She almost choked on her coffee. “Excuse me?

“I'm kidding.” He smirked. “Besides, I think I already know.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure.”

“How did you find me?”

“Oh, good. You're finally being straightforward. Isn't it obvious? I saw you in line and recognized you.

That's all there is to it.”

“Were you seeking me out?”

“Maybe.”

“Susan, were you?”

“Okay, I was.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Tommy, we've been over this... we had a rendezvous... that you never showed to.”

“What did you expect?” he started to get frustrated. “For us to run away and be on the run for the rest

of our lives together?”

“I was willing to throw my life away to be with you, Tommy.”

He immediately glanced around at the other customers. A few people looked over their direction with

frowns aimed at him. He looked back at her and quieted his voice. “Well, that would've been the

stupidest mistake of your life. You and I both know it was for the best that I left without you.”

She nodded. “Alright, fine. You're right... I see that now.”

“Well, good.” He leaned back in his chair. “At least we're now on the same page.” He wiped a coffee

ring with his napkin.

“I actually thought I was in love with you for a minute, and I could've made the stupidest mistake out

of stupid mistakes.”

“I know. We've already established the fact.” He smirked.

“I just wanted you to know that I finally agree with you on the matter.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Okay, then. Well, this was an enlightening chat. But, I've got to go

now. Don't want you becoming too attached again.”

“Hmph. In your dreams.”

He stood up from the table and stood next to her. “Oh, believe me... you are.”  
  


She frowned and looked up to see him wink at her. “Wait.” She grabbed onto his jacket sleeve, and he

paused. She grabbed a card out of her purse and slipped it inside his jacket pocket as she looked up at

him. “Here's my card. Call me if-”

“Just... why would I need to call you, Susan?”

“Because... it's just so you have it. Okay?”

He nodded, “fine.”

~:~

Tommy stood in a payphone booth on the streets of New York. “Hello? Susan?”

“Look who's becoming too attached already. Oh, and it's not me.”

He rolled his eyes. “I need your help...” he peered through the payphone booth as he watched two men

coming closer toward him, almost as if they were looking for him. “Fast.”

“You're hilarious, you know that? You actually think that I would help you?”

“I just- I rushed inside this payphone booth to hide and didn't know what else to do. So, I remembered

your card and called you.”

“What's the problem anyway?”

“I think there's two undercover detectives after me... and I figured since you were once one of them...

you could help me get out of this somehow.”

It was silent over the line for a moment.

“Susan?”

“What payphone are you in?”

“The one in front of the all-American bank?”

“Be right there.”

~:~

They walked down the sidewalk. Tommy eyed the two men who were standing by a newspaper stand.

One of them had a newspaper unfolded as if he was reading it, but was talking to the other man, who

was looking, suspiciously, around at the pedestrians nearby.

Tommy grabbed Susan's wrist and led her behind a brick wall of a tall building.

“What is it?”

“See those men over there?”

She peeked behind the building. “The ones with the newspaper?”

“Mm, hmm. Those are the two men who were following me.”

“Are you sure?” She continued to watch them.

“Yes. Now, stop looking or they'll see.”

She backed away and leaned against the brick to look at him beside her. “How'd you safely get out of

the phone booth?”

“I darted once I saw their backs were turned and hid behind this building.” He peeked once more from

behind the brick to look at the men. “Speaking of which, I think we better dart now. They're coming

this way.”

The two took off together as the men got closer and saw them. “Hey!” One of them called as they

started chasing them down an alley.

Tommy and Susan eventually came to a huge, green garbage bin. They hid behind it, out of sight from

the two men.

“Let me go talk to them. Maybe it's a misunderstanding.” She started to rise to her feet.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her back to the ground beside him. “No. Don't be irrational.” He

whispered. “I'm sorry I got you involved in this. But, this is my business. They're after me.”

“No. They're not.”

He immediately frowned at her in the darkness.

“I mean, yes, they must be.”

The dark cladded men looked around in the darkness of the alleyway. “Come out, come out wherever

you are!” One of them called.

Susan found herself holding her breath. She knew that she wasn't at all used to this kind of life. Being

the item of fixation with the FBI, but this was her life now. So, she had to learn how to survive in it.

The man came closer to where they were hiding.

Her eyes got big as her face crinkled with nervous energy, a slight whimper escaping her lips. Tommy

quickly reached out to pull her closer to him as he put his hand over her mouth.

“I heard something!” The man came over to see them, sitting there. “Ah, ha!”

“Run!” Tommy pushed her up in front of him.

She got a slight head start and ran straight up the alley, making a turn into the next one. She didn't

dare glance behind her, in fear of slowing her down, but she could hear a scuffle taking place with the

men and Tommy. She found a dark corner of the alley to stand against in hopes of blending in if they

were to come after her. After a minute, she saw Tommy running with one of the men just a few feet

behind him. She didn't know what to do. Should she start running to stay ahead of them or stay behind

in hopes that they wouldn't notice her?

Tommy passed her and didn't seem to notice her. Then she saw the man come. He ended up stopping

nearby to catch his breath. He bent forward, placing his hands on his knees, and wheezing for air. Susan

held her breath, praying to God that he didn't see her. Then the man turned his face slightly and froze.

She could've swore he was looking directly at her. Her adrenaline picked up and she took off running.

“Come back here, you bitch!” The guy soon caught up with her and before she knew it, grabbed a

hold of her shirt and thrust a blade into her right shoulder blade.

“Ahhhhh!”

The guy retrieved his blade and immediately took off when he saw Tommy turning around and

coming his way. She fell to her knees in the wet and dark alleyway in great shock from the stinging

pain.

“Susan!” Tommy caught up to her, kneeling on the wet, cold ground. After checking out where she

had been stabbed, he carefully lifted her chin to look at her face.

She curled her lip. “I'm- I'm okay. J-just get me out of here.”

“You're not okay. You could bleed out.” He glanced up to see if the attacker was anywhere in sight, he

wasn't. “Will you be able to walk?” He put an arm around her back and the other in the crook of her

armpit, helping her stand to her feet.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold any groaning and whimpering from escaping her lips as she

nodded.

 


	2. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After arriving at Tommy's safe house, he stitches up Susan's knife wound in her shoulder. Something in the air stirs up Susan's feelings as she stays the night at his place.

They arrived at the safe house. It was in a hidden nook of New York City. If you didn't know it was there,

you'd probably never notice the almost camouflaged door. He unlocked it and they both hurried inside.

“Take off your shirt.” He told her as he walked toward the kitchen table to go through his medical bag.

She tightened her lips in pain as she tried slipping her navy blue, v-neck top over her arms with one

hand. “Mm... can- can you help me out here?”

He turned around, saw her in her predicament and went to help her.

She kept her eyes on him as he tugged on two sides of her shirt and pulled it over her head, letting it

drop to the ground. Leaving her in a black, silk bra and blue jeans. His eyes grazed over her tight

abdomen for a second as he flashed his eyebrows. “Wow. You've been working out.”

She took her seat on a stool in front of the kitchen table, leaning forward to rest her good arm on the

tabletop. She tried not to sound in pain. “You sound impressed.”

He glanced from his medical bag to look at her. “Well, I am. You look good.”

She tried to hide a smile that was springing to her lips from the compliment. “Thanks.” It was true.

She had been working out since the last time they saw each other. She hardly had any muscle anywhere

before, but now, she had abs, some strong, shapely arms and buff glutes.

He laid out a few tools onto the table, along with a needle syringe filled with a clear liquid. He put on

a pair of disposable gloves and moved her right bra strap off her shoulder, away from the wound. He

took a square piece of white cloth that looked like it had been ripped from an old, clean shirt. He

poured peroxide all over the cloth and then folded it and said, “This'll sting a little.” He squeezed the

rag, letting the peroxide flow over her wound.

“Ah.” She tried not to cry out from the bubbling peroxide, eating at the germs in her wound, giving

her an irritating itching and stinging sensation.

He then wiped the wound dry and got out his syringe. She turned her head to see what he was doing

behind her. He prepped it for insertion, making sure there were no air bubbles by pressing a little liquid

out of the syringe. “Now, I'm going to give you some anesthesia to numb the sight at the wound.”

“Okay.” She turned her head back around and rested it in the crook of her arm.

He stuck the needle in three different places, letting out a little liquid with each press around her two

inch long knife wound. “It only takes a little with a wound this size. I don't want you falling asleep on

me.”

“Is this kind of like that laughing gas that dentists use, besides you don't breathe it?”

“Heh. Sort of. But this most likely won't give you the giggles, I'm afraid.”

“Oh.” She immediately wished she hadn't sounded so awkward.

He picked up a piece of black medical thread and a needle. He threaded the needle and then got to

work on inserting the needle where the wound first started and making his way slowly across.

She felt numb, and the only sensation she could feel was the tugging of her skin every time the needle

stitched her skin together. She could feel his strong presence behind her, along with his warm breathing

glazing her shoulder blade and neck. She gulped when his breathing lightly ghosted her ear, sending

chills down her spine. She frowned to herself as she spoke under her breath. “I remember how I used to

be sort of... addicted to just... being with you. Like a junkie.”

He closed his eyes, taking the needle out and standing up straight. “Don't say that.”

“But, that's how I felt... feel.” She turned her head around to look at his handsome face. “You make

me believe in things... that I didn't think possible before.”

He directly peered into her eyes. “I didn't do anything, Susan. You're believing in things now...

because ' _you_ ', yourself, made them possible.”

She glanced down at his lips for a slight instant. Her eyes fluttered, shaking her head as she turned

back to look in front of her. “Maybe you're right. I'm an ever-evolving human being after all.” She

chuckled, “I find myself changing every which way, trying to figure out who I am... what I like... ' _who'_

I like.” She turned her face to look at him seriously, but he continued to concentrate on her wound as he

tied the stitch closed.

“There. I'm finished.” He took off his gloves, stood up straight and finally met her lingering gaze.

She pulled up her bra strap and put it into place as she turned her torso to face him. She licked her

bottom lip, “thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked away from her and started gathering up his tools and placing them back in

his medical bag.

She stood up slowly, secretly hoping he'd try to sneak one last peak before she put her shirt back on.

She watched him, and noticed how he seemed to be ignoring that she was even right beside him. She

frowned and went to retrieve her shirt on the ground. She kept it in her hand, and looked at the back of

him, still slowly putting way his tools.

She couldn't believe her feelings, but she felt her hormones raging. She thought about how attractive

he looked. Her eyes ran over his butt in his jeans and then over his slim hips and broad shoulders. She

could see some of his rippling back muscles, clinging to his gray t-shirt. She shook her head and sighed

as she made her way toward him. She nudged his shoulder with hers on purpose as she passed to get his

attention.

He turned to look at her. “If you're going to take a shower, be careful with your shoulder and try not

to touch it.”

She glanced behind her and smiled. “Oh, okay.” She made her way into the bedroom and got into her

bag to get her pink, silk nightgown out. She went into the bathroom, shut the door and undressed out of

her filthy clothes. She then got into the shower, relishing the steaming, hot water pouring down her

back. She kept her eyes closed and crossed her arms. Her hand accidentally touched the stitches,

making her flinch and immediately remove her hand.

She got out of the shower, slipped into her nightgown and opened the bathroom door, letting the

steam immediately start escaping into the bedroom.

Tommy was standing by the dresser, holding a pair of sweat pants. He came up and leaned against the

door frame as he looked at her through the mirror. “How was it?”

She was towel drying her blonde hair, which looked like a grayish-brown when wet. “The shower?”

She met his gaze in the mirror, “divine.” She hung up her towel on a hook as he backed away from the

doorway and she brushed pass him. She could've swore that she heard him take a whiff of her fresh

scent as she passed... or was that just wishful thinking?

 

~:~

 

She went into the kitchen and looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was nine o'clock at night.

She still couldn't believe that she had gotten attacked and stabbed today. She put on a pot of hot water

in hopes of relaxing herself and easing her mind. She looked through the few tea flavors he had in his

cupboard... chamomile sunset, peony white, and Earl gray. She remembered from her readings, that

chamomile tea was meant to help make one drowsy in order to sleep. So, she placed the tea bag in her

mug, poured the hot water over and then, decided to make Tommy a cup too. She brought the mugs

over to the coffee table and took a seat on the couch.

She sat there silently, thinking as she sipped her tea. She shook her head as her thoughts started to

drift to him... but, more importantly, his naked body in the shower. Her throat tightened and she tried

chasing away butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. “If only chamomile tea was good for warding off

feelings of desire.” She mumbled to herself with a sigh.

He came in after a moment, in sweatpants and a white v-neck t-shirt. He took a seat next to her.

“Hey.”

She smiled. “Hey. I made you a cup of chamomile tea.”

“Oh, thanks.” He took the mug and raised it to his mouth and took a sip. “So, is this what you want to

do before bed?” He flashed his dark eyebrows, “drink tea?”

“Yes. Unless there's something else you have in mind?” She placed her hand on her chest to feel her

heart beating.

He rolled back his shoulders and glanced at the clock. “Is there something we should talk about,

Susan?”

“Hmm? Like what?”

He looked at her. “Like... why those men were chasing us tonight?”

“How should I know? They were chasing after you, not me.”

“Were they? I'm not so sure about that.”

“What? Why? You actually think that they would be after me?”

“You were the one who that guy attacked, and you have the stab wound to prove it.”

“I was right in his way. You were further ahead. It doesn't mean anything”

“Perhaps.” He took another sip of tea.

“Hey, um, can you check out my shoulder and make sure I didn't undo a stitch or two from my

shower? I did accidentally touch it.”

“Oh, sure.” He set down his mug as she moved her wavy hair to the side to rest on her shoulder. He 

pulled down her nightgown strap with his hand on her arm as he scooted closer to look. “No. It looks

fine.” He breathed on the back of her neck, sending chills through her once again, and making her

visibly shake slightly this time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm good. I just feel kind of... sensitive tonight, that's all.” She drew in a deep breath of

courage and placed her hand on top of his that wrapped around her arm.

He paused in silence.

She closed her eyes and rolled her head to her shoulder, making the side of her neck more visible, and

revealing the veins in her neck. “Tommy, I'm feeling- I'm feeling-”

He brought his mouth just behind her ear and spoke almost in a whisper. “What's making you feel

sensitive, Susan?”

There it was again, another chill ran up her neck from his breath tickling her ear as her heart rate

increased. “I-”

He moved his hand directly over her heart in the middle of her back. “And why is your heart racing?”

She gasped, surprised at the question and feeling his hand there, she knew there was no denying it.

“Um-”

His hand slid down her back, the other wrapping around her shoulder as he scooted closer behind to

whisper in her ear. “Go take a cold shower.”

She gasped, turning her head to look at him.

He stood up from the couch and stopped in front of her. “As for sleeping arrangements... you can have

the bed. I'll be sleeping on the couch.”

“How dare you say that to me?”

“What? About the sleeping arrangements?”

“You know very well what I'm referring to, Tommy. _'Go take a cold shower?'”_

He chuckled. “Well, it's about the only thing that'll take care of your... condition. You know, a remedy put in place,

instead of getting messy.”

She looked away from him and got up from her seat in astonishment. “You can _'have_ ' your bed. I'll use

the couch.” She headed for the kitchen with her mug in hand. She poured herself a second cup of tea as

Tommy came to stand a foot behind her.

“Susan, I want you to have the bed. You're injured... I insist.”

“Fine, if you... _'insist.'”_ She turned around. “But, Tommy... I want you to know... it wouldn't exactly

bother me if you decided to sleep there, too.That is... unless you think I'm going to mess up your bed. ” She raised

an eyebrow as he chuckled. 

“Mm. You're sure about that?”

“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?” She raised her chin in the air. “I don't know about you, but I'm going to

bed.” She started to head for the bedroom, but paused as she turned to face him. “Oh, and Tommy...

about that... so called, _remedy_ of taking a cold shower. Do you know if it would work by experience?”

She stepped closer and bit her bottom lip as she stared at him. “I bet you need it all the time, don't

you?”

He lowered his head and looked at her like a little boy as he chuckled. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

She gave him a smirk as she sneaked a glance down at his muscular chest and then headed for the 

bedroom. She turned down the covers and crawled into the full-size bed. She laid on her back as she

waited for him to come into the darkness of the room. He silently turned down the covers on his side

and got in, settling on his back as well.

They were both silent as they stared at the ceiling in the dark and quiet room. She reached her hand

out and brushed down the side of his arm, hip and part of his thigh. She bit her lip nervously as she

watched for his reaction.

She could see his chest rising and falling with his breathing as he turned his face to look at her.

“Why'd you do that?”

Her eyes widened. “I- I- don't know. I just... felt like it.”

He took in a huge breath and looked back up at the ceiling.

“Tommy... thank you.”

“For what?”

“For stitching me up. Also, for letting me stay here and helping me escape.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What exactly are you trying to escape _'from'_ , Susan?”

“There's a lot that happened after you left Gotham.”

“Are you going to tell me about it?” He rolled onto his side to face her.

She sighed, “Well, first of all, I was fired from the FBI. Accused of being a double agent.”

“Wow.” He raised his eyebrows. “Is it true?”

“Of course not. But, now, I'm wanted by the FBI. I think maybe that's who those guys were tonight.

They want to put me in jail for something that I didn't do, Tommy.”

“I see. It seems we're both wanted fugitives then, aren't we? Who would've thought miss _goody-two-_

 _shoes_ would ever be accused of doing something wrong?”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes in frustration. “Now, let me ask you something.” She rolled onto

her side to face him. “Why are you keeping your distance from me? Why must you keep your guard

up?”

“Susan,” he paused, closing his eyes. “I left the city without you. You're the one who should be

pushing _'me'_ away, but yet, you're just... well, wide open.”

“Maybe I realize why you are the way you are. Maybe I can relate more now than ever. I don't really

know.” She sighed with longing as she stared at his face, just a foot away from hers.

She gulped, reaching a hand to touch the side of his face as he closed his eyes and sighed. She scooted

closer to him, putting her forehead up to his as she closed her eyes. She moved her hand from his face

and combed through his hair.

He reached to grab her hand, pulling it from his hair and placing it on the bed. He frowned at her,

“goodnight, Susan.” He shifted his body to face the other direction.

She was left feeling regretful for making a move and now resigning to loneliness. The rest of the night

was a long continuation of darkness and silence as they both fell asleep.

 

 

 


	3. Ramona Bartenelli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deciding to go incognito to investigate any potential nefarious characters, Tommy and Susan go together to a famous gangster's party. There, Tommy becomes acquainted with the mob-boss's daughter, Ramona Bartenelli.

“Tommy... I'm sorry about last night... you know, the way I acted.”

He turned to look at her seriously.

“It was just because I hadn't seen you in a long time... I just... didn't know how to act.”

“Don't worry about it.” He turned toward the kitchen counter and started pouring a cup of coffee. 

“How's the shoulder?” 

She sighed as she voluntarily raised her shoulder to test it out. “Mm, still sore.”

“It will be for a while now, until the tissue gets woven back together.” He handed her a cup of coffee 

and leaned against the stove. 

“Thanks. So...” she took a sip, trying to think of something to say. “What was it like going from Elliot 

estate to this tiny safe house?”

“Not fun. But, you can't just get anything in New york that is as private as this and be a mansion. A 

mansion will stick out like a sore thumb anyway.” He shook his head. “Besides, sans any continual 

flow of money at the moment... I better be more sensible and not, you know, buy anything too 

extravagant.”

She smiled slightly, “right.”

“So, where have you been living since you left Gotham?”

She shook her head. “Well, my sister lives in New York City, so, she offered to let me stay with her 

until I could get back up on my feet again, as I put it to her.”

He raised an eyebrow. “She doesn't know you're a... or, were a detective?”

“No. For a while, no one did. There's a certain type of detective that I was. Let's see, what was it 

called? oh yeah, 'undercover'.” She smiled.

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I figured it out, didn't I?”

“Heh. And I figured out a lot of things about you too.”

He stepped closer to her, staring, “mm, hmm. Such as?”

“Well...” she glanced away from him, trying to remember. “Such as... when we first met at that party, 

and you were trying to manipulate me into slipping a sedative into Bruce Wayne's drink-”

He chuckled.

“Then when I looked you up, found out you were a doctor, I came to visit you. I just knew that 

somehow, even without my help, you had gone through with your plan on drugging him.”

He frowned. “But, Susan. I didn't drug him.” 

“Oh, come on... yes, you did.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment and then broke into a smile.

She shook her head. “You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you?”

He tried to hold back a laugh. “Yeah, kinda hoped you did. Ahem.” He turned around and put his mug 

inside the dishwasher behind him.

“So... what's the plan for today?”

“I don't know. What do you have planned?” He turned back around, raising his eyebrows.

“What do you think about those two men from last night?”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Don't know. But, there are multiple possibilities.”

“Like what?”

“Well,” he sighed. “One... they're undercover detectives after me-”

“Or me.”

He paused. “Or... you. You know, there's really no other option.”

She gave him a sad smile. “They could've been just random thugs, but.” She shrugged.

“Probably not. Perhaps we've both been too careless. I think we might need to go undercover, Susan.”

“Undercover, how?"

 

~:~

Tommy and Susan arrived at the wealthy gangster, Bartenelli's ball. Anyone was invited, so it was no 

ordeal to get inside the mansion.

“Tommy, you think you're going to be in disguise enough with flat-out 'no disguise'? I thought we 

talked about going incognito?”

“We are.” He shrugged. “Sort of. I'm as Bruce Wayne. You're-” he paused to stare at her heavy 

makeup job, “some emo girl who's trying to learn how to put on makeup for the first time.”

“Haha. That's not what this makeup is supposed to portray. I'm trying to look unlike myself as much as 

I possibly can.” She said, smoothing a stray piece of her dark wig with bangs, away from her eye.

They both made their way over to a couple of chairs in a corner of the ballroom. The music finally 

started and couples started to dance.

“So?” Susan peered across the ballroom. “Who's that feisty, south American girl who keeps making 

eye contact with you across the ballroom?”

“Oh. I have no idea. Never seen her in my life.” 

“Then why are you playing a staring contest?”

“We're not. I mean, I'm not. I don't know what she's doing.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea. Here she comes now.” Susan pursed her lips, watching the woman 

come closer. 

“Would you like to dance, sir?” She asked with a thick Argentinian accent.

Tommy raised his eyebrows and looked at Susan, hiding in her cladded dark makeup.

“You dance?” Susan asked him, curious.

He chuckled. “Uh, yeah. It comes with the territory of being raised in prep schools growing up.”

“Oh, do you not like to dance?” the woman sounded disappointed.

“No, no. I only dance with special women, you see.” He stood up, towering over her by six inches. 

“And you, my dear, are screaming specialty.”

The woman grinned and drug him out to the dance floor. She put an arm around his shoulder and used 

the other to hold his bicep as they danced to a slow ballad. “I'm Ramona, by the way.”

“It's nice to meet you, Ramona. I'm-”

“A handsome devil, you are.”

He chuckled. “I'm... Bruce Wayne.”

“So... what brings you to the city of lights?”

“Heh. This isn't Paris, Ramona, I'd hardly mistaken it as such.”

She chuckled. “I was speaking poetically.”

“Which would only make sense if we were in Paris.”

“Are you always this way?”

“What way?” He glanced around at the other dancers.

“So 'matter of fact'?”

“No. I leave that to my lady friend over there to do that for me.” He nodded toward Susan, whom was 

watching them by herself, like a wallflower.

“Mm.” Ramona bit her bottom lip. “So, are you and her-?

He raised his eyebrows. “What? Together?”

“Si?” 

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Susan's like an annoying little sister who tags along with me everywhere 

I go. I can't seem to ever get rid of her.”

“I see.” She nodded, “you want me to get rid of her for you?”

“Would you?”

“Si. I would love to. As long as I can get something from you in return.” She stared at him seriously.

“Oh.” He met her intense stare as they stopped dancing and he lowered his voice. “What did you have 

in mind?”

She leaned forward, stretching on her tippy toes in order to whisper in his ear. 

He stood up straight and gulped. “Um, you know, I don't want her gone that bad. You don't have to-”

“Shush. I'll deal with her. You meet me at midnight up in my room, door number seventeen.”

“Up in your room?”

“Yes. Don't you know who I am? I'm the daughter of Franco Bartenelli. You know, the man who's 

putting on this dance party?”

“Oh, yes. Of course. How could I forget?”

“Don't you dare forget. Meet me, Mister Wayne.”

“Of course.” He quickly made his way back to Susan.

 

“So? What was that all about?” Susan asked, frowning. “Why so secretive? I saw her whispering in 

your ear or something.”

“Susan, that girl is Ramona Bartenelli. She's Mister Franco Bartenelli, the gangster's daughter.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But that still doesn't explain the whispering.”

“The what?”

“The whispering. I saw you guys.”

“Oh, Susan. That was nothing. She was just reciting a silly joke she didn't want the other dancers to 

hear.”

“Uh, huh.” Susan shook her head.

“Lighten up,” he nudged her shoulder with his hand. “And stop acting like a ball and chain and go get 

us some drinks.”

She frowned. “No. You get them. Where's the gentleman in you tonight?”

“I left him at home with your gentlewoman.” He raised his eyebrows and left her to head toward the 

drink table.

After a minute, Ramona showed up to talk to Susan. “So? What's your name?”

“Uh, S-Sara.”

“Awe, I'm Ramona Bartenelli.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

“Oh, good. Then you'll know that I decide who I want in my father's parties, si?”

She frowned. “What are you saying?”

She clapped her hands, drawing her bodyguards to her side. “Boys, can you escort this ninny to her 

quarters?”

“What? Quarters? What are you talking about? Let go of me!” The men grabbed her arms on both 

sides and started dragging her away.

~:~

At midnight, Tommy went up the long stairwell in the mansion. He walked down a few dark, long 

hallways in search for room seventeen. When he finally came to it, he knocked lightly on the closed 

door. 

“Come in, darling.” Came a feminine voice from inside.

He opened the door to see candles lit all around the room. It revealed Ramona laying in the silk, gray 

sheets, revealing her bare shoulders. She gave him the “come here” gesture with her finger as she kept 

her lingering gaze on him as he shut the door and came slowly over to her.

He sat on the side of the bed, facing her. She sat up in bed, gravity pulling the sheets down slightly as 

she pulled her arm from out of the covers to tug on his fine shirt. He reached to put an arm around her 

bare back and his other hand wrapped around her warm neck as he began to kiss her.


	4. "You Called Me Special"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy gets a little more than he bargained for as he realizes the true character of Ramona Bartenelli.

Ramona laid on her back in bed as Tommy leaned over to kiss her neck. “Oh,” she sighed, “I just 

knew when I saw you... that it would feel this way with you.”

He came up for a breath to glance from her mouth to her dark eyes. His eyes going partly cross-eyed 

as he studied her face in close proximity to his. “And how's that?”

“Just looking at you, I could see your passionate nature from the start. And your body, I could tell 

exactly what it could do for me. And I wanted it.”

He smiled slightly. “Mm, you were checking me out, then?”

“Of course, darling. I never pass up a hunk of masculinity when I see it.”

“I bet you don't.” He grabbed her arm and stared at it as he took his thumb and started rubbing the 

inside of her wrist. “You're a very knowledgeable girl, Ramona...” He looked at her, his eyes softening 

in a sultry gaze. “I could tell.”

“Why, of course. What did you expect from a mobster's daughter? Virginity?”

“Nope,” he licked his bottom lip, “I never knew a girl could make me blush, until tonight.”

She giggled, “that was the whole point, handsome. I live to make men blush their brains out.”

He gulped as his thoughts drifted to the prior events. He sighed as he relaxed onto his back, the covers 

falling off his shirtless torso, and revealing his shapely muscles. “Mm, I didn't realize how much I 

needed you tonight, Ramona.”

She sat up to lean on her elbow, brushing her hand on his chest. “Mm, hmm, so you admit it, then? It 

was wonderful, si?”

He smirked, “Si.”He put a hand in the small of her back, pulling her onto him as he captivated her in a 

long kiss.

“What now?” She pulled away, “are you ready to start up another engine?”

“Ugh, I'm exhausted. Aren't you tired?”

“No. Not one bit.” She furrowed her dark eyebrows. “Men always want to fall asleep on me. What is 

with that? Can you tell me?”

“I could bore you with the science of it all, but-”

She shook her head and pursed her lips.

“So, what did you actually do to get rid of, you know,” he started rubbing her back, “that girl who

was with me earlier?”

“Oh, Sara, or someone?”

“Y-yeah, Sara.”

“I got my boys to send her away to her quarters.”

He frowned. “Her quarters? What do you mean?”

“It's a room where they hold people for ransom. My papa always seems to have some hopeless 

someone in there, waiting for a release at a great price in return.”

He gulped. “Where is this room?”

She giggled. “Why do you want to know? You wanted her gone, no?”

“Just curious. She was... sort of my responsibility.”

“If you want her out, you pay mi papa a ransom.”

“Oh, come on. Do I look like I have money?”

“You're billionaire Bruce Wayne, aren't you?”

He paused, “Well, yeah, but-”

“But what?”

He paused and stared at her. 

“What is it, darling? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Oh, nothing.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulled her against him as started mouthing her 

neck. “You're just so...” he sighed, “mesmerizing.” 

“Oh, really?” She giggled.

He started teasing her ear canal with the tip of his tongue, breathing warm air, and hitting the wetness 

on her skin. Sending chills through her body. “So,” he whispered, “where is this room you're talking 

about?”

She shook her head, “I'm not telling you. I don't want that girl with you. I want you all to myself.”

He cocked his head, staring at her carotid artery protruding from her neck.

“Couldn't you tell that she was in love with you by the way she was staring at us dancing? She was 

'burning' with green envy.”

“No.” His hand slid across her thigh, rubbing up and down. “She's not. You're just suspecting things 

because you're envious of her.” He slid his hand down to touch her butt.

“Oh, maybe you're right.” She gasped from excitement.

“Now, tell me what room, Ramona.” 

“Uh, uh.”

“Por favor.” He pushed his hips against her.

“Mm... no.”

He stared at her and gripping onto her long, dark locks and cocking his head to devour her mouth. 

“Come on.” He mumbled as he pulled away just as she was starting to get worked up. “This isn't fair, 

honey. I didn't sleep with you so that I would have to pay a ransom to free my friend.”

“Oh, come on. You're practically paying 'me' to sleep with you. We both know Sara wasn't giving you 

what you wanted. And you were too chicken to break it off with her.”

“What? No. We weren't sleeping together. I told you she's my...” he got off of her and laid on his back 

as he stared at the ceiling. “Never mind.”

“But 'she' does want you, I could tell.”

“Please stop. Okay? I don't have to listen to this. Just stop.” He sat up in bed and reached for his pants 

on the ground, beside the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“We're done. I'm leaving.” 

“Are you coming back?”

“No.” He slid his pants on and stood up to buckle his belt.

“Why? What did I do, darling?”

He stared at her, shaking his head. “Are you going to tell me where she is?”

“No.”

“Then you're of no use to me anymore, 'darling'.”

She sat up in bed, holding the sheets over her.

He buttoned his shirt up and put on his black jacket, reaching inside the jacket's pocket to pull out a 

gun. He pointed it to her. “Now, you'll tell me where she is, or you're dead.”

She laughed. “Are you sure you know how to use that thing, handsome?”

“Yes. Don't make me show you.”

“Fine, fine. She rolled out of bed, naked and reached for her black silk robe. 

He watched her put it on, and then tie it at the waist. She opened her nightstand drawer.

“Freeze! Don't you dare. Shut that drawer... now!”

“Fine, fine. As you wish.” She shut it and then walked over to him. “So, what are you going to do with 

that gun?”

He stared at her, blankly, still pointing the gun.

She smirked. “Don't think I haven't been around guns before. I'm all to familiar with their ugly 

presence.” 

He watched her as she put her hand on the barrel and moved the gun to touch her abdomen. She stared 

at him, her dark eyes, unreadable in the dim candle light. “What are you waiting for? Shoot me, I dare 

you, darling.”

He frowned, “I'm not going to shoot you, unless you won't help me with-”

“Okay, I won't. What now?” She raised an eyebrow, and placed her hand on his shoulder as she stared 

at his chest.

“Give me a hint, Ramona.”

“A hint? To what?”

“Where Su- uh, Sara is.”

“Fine.” She gestured for him to come closer as she whispered in his ear. “A dark room in this 

mansion.”

She tried backing away but he gripped her arm tightly as he growled, “I'm not playing games. Show 

me now.”

“Let go of me.” She hissed as she struggled.

He released her arm.

She pursed her lips and sighed. “Follow me.”

He frowned. “Don't think I'll hesitate if you make one wrong move.”

She rolled her eyes when he wasn't looking as she opened her bedroom door and the two went out. 

Tommy kept his hand on the gun but placed it loaded in his jacket pocket, facing out.

 

The party was still going on, but not many people were still there. There were a few wild bouts of 

drunk laughter reverberating through the hollow walls of the mansion.

Ramona led Tommy down multiple, never ending hallways. Eventually he started to get suspicious as 

he asked, “Where are we? You're not actually leading me to her, are you?”

She laughed as she glanced behind at him. “Of course I am, darling. We're almost there.” They came 

to a door with the number twenty-four on it. “Here it is.” She opened it and went into the pitch black 

room. 

“Ramona?” He followed after her inside, then heard the door slam shut. “Ramona? Where are you? 

Susan?” He reached out into empty space, trying to decipher where he was. Before he knew it, 

someone pushed him against the wall.

“Ugh!”

He was suddenly bombarded with a bunch of sloppy, wet kisses as her hands roamed around his body, 

and then he felt himself suddenly get groped. 

“Ugh!” He growled and used his strength to push her off of him, making her fall to the ground. “What 

the hell do you think you're doing?!”

“I'm not leading you to that woman. You're mine, and mine alone.”

“You're crazy. I'm getting out of here.” He tried searching for the door in the darkness.

“Why? What is it about 'her' that is so special? You told me that 'I' was special! Remember?!” She 

grabbed onto his arm, pulling him.

He took his other hand and hit her hard in the shoulder to push her away. “You're crazy, lady. And not 

in the good kind of way.” He found the door and opened it, quickly fleeing the room and running down 

the dark hallway.


	5. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes to Ramona to make a deal to get Susan released without having to give in to a ransom.

“Hey Mister!” Ramona called behind him as she saw him searching multiple rooms down the hall. 

He stopped, turned around and pointed the gun at her.

She put her hands up as she walked over to him. “What's the matter, darling?”

“Don't play dumb. You literally jumped my bones in that room.”

“So? You did the same to me just a few hours ago... but in bed.” She bit her bottom lip and smirked as 

she tried grabbing the barrel of the gun. She walked him slowly into the wall, until his back was 

pressed against it. “Remember?”

He yanked it out of her grasp and quickly held the gun to her temple as he started to perspire. “Do you 

'want' me to kill you?”

She laughed. “Darling, if you had that kind of dark passion, I'd already be lying in that dark room, 

squirming in my own blood.” She rubbed her hand down his chest and to his abdomen, her hand then 

rested on his belt buckle. 

They held intense eye contact as he gulped, feeling his heart rate almost beating out of his chest as he 

continued to hold the gun to her head.

She glanced down at his buckle as he kept his eyes on her, “remove your hand from me now.”

“No man has ever denied the pleasure I offer them. Why do you?” 

“Because...” he lowered his gun, grabbed her by the arm tightly and pushed her against the wall while 

gritting his teeth. “Don't you see... I was 'using' you to get information on where your guys took my 

friend.”

She laughed, “darling, darling. Stop lying to yourself. You asked me to get rid of your girlfriend, so 

that you could sleep with me freely.”

He frowned, “n-no. That's not true. That's only what I 'wanted' you to think.”

“Mm, hmm. Keep telling yourself that.” She leaned in toward him, her lips almost touching his ear as 

she whispered. “Admit it. You're ridiculously turned on by me right now. I already know. You're 

practically trembling, darling.”

“Shut up.” He gave her arm one more squeeze before releasing her and distancing himself. He glanced 

around the hallway at the line of doors. “You know what, my guess is she isn't even here at all. Your 

men probably escorted her out of the mansion a long time ago.”

“Mm, now you're starting to think, as you American's say, outside-the-box, darling.”

He shook his head, “I'm leaving then. See you never.”

“But darling, wait!” She ran after him. “What if you're wrong and you leave that woman here, trapped 

in a dark room?”

“I'll take my chances.” He glared at her and started heading down the stairwell.

~:~

“You bastard!” Susan spat a mouth full of water out and onto the man's face.

“Mm, a feisty female Americana, Alberto.” He laughed in his gravelly deep voice. “Can we keep 

her?”

“Yeah, heh, good one.” The man named Alberto said.

“No reason to be a persona non grata, chica. We're just giving you water, so you won't dry up and 

die.”

Susan pursed her lips as she tried to move her hands that were bonded in tight rope as she was sitting, 

tied to a wooden chair. “I don't want anything from you, you creep. Who's to say you're not trying to 

drug or poison me? Huh?”

The man laughed. “I guess you're right, chica. Have it your way and die.” 

“Why the hell am I here anyway? Why am I being held hostage?”

The man laughed. “We don't always know the details... we just obey what the queen tells us.”

“The queen? You mean that gangster girl? Ramona... something?”

“Ramona Bartenelli. And yes, she is after all, who we're working for.”

“What about her father? Her 'padre'? What about him? What would he say about all of this?”

The men exchanged glances. “I don't know. We don't work for him.”

Susan sighed as she lowered her head. “I should've never gotten myself involved with him again! I 

should've known something like this was bound to happen.”

“Who're you talking to, chica?”

“Oh, just to my good conscience, whom I consistently ignore.”

 

“Open the door, boys. Pronto!” Came Ramona's thick accent from behind the door.

One of the men quickly complied, opening the door. The woman strutted in and quickly came up to 

Susan to slap her hard on the face.

“Ugh!” Susan's face jerked to the side from the blow. “What was that for?!”

“Oh, just for being special to him.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“That man you were with, Bruce Wayne... it seems that you're pretty important maldita to him.”

“Really? Well, the feeling's not mutual. I hate him!” She declared. “Bringing me into his messy life... 

again!”

“Really? So you two aren't-?”

“No. Are you kidding me?”

“Oh.” Ramona looked a little relieved. “Then why is he worried about where you are?”

“Is he really? I mean, how should I know?”

Ramona cocked her head. “Oh, darling, your shoulder is bleeding through your shirt.”

Susan gasped as she glanced down, just realizing that her shoulder was burning and inflamed. “Oh my 

gosh! I think it's infected. I have to go to a hospital. Get me out of here, please!”

“You're not going anywhere, darling.” Ramona laughed. “Not until that handsome hombre gives me 

what I want.”

“Which is what? Money? He doesn't have any!”

“Oh, not just money my dear.” She laughed. 

Susan frowned. “What are you going to do?”

The woman raised her chin in the air and stood up straight. “You know, darling... if that shoulder of 

yours stays infected for too long, we might have to remove it.”

“W-what?”

Ramona smirked. “I'll be back later. Keep watch on her boys.” She turned to leave the room.

~:~

Tommy arrived back at his safe house. He turned on the lights in hope of seeing Susan laying on the 

couch, sleeping. No one was there. He checked the bedroom, and found the bed empty as well. He 

looked at the time on the nightstand, it was five in the morning. He was exhausted, but didn't know 

what to do about Susan. He sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing his hand to his forehead. 'What 

have I done?' He thought to himself. 'She's God-knows-where, and it's all my fault.' He laid down on 

the bed and closed his eyes.

~:~

After sleeping in until noon, Tommy made a plan to get Susan back. At least the beginning of a plan. 

He didn't know where things would go once he got there. He decided he would go back to the 

Bartenelli mansion tonight and ask to see Ramona.

 

“Yes?”

“Is Ramona Bartenelli home?"

“What is your business with the mistress?” The butler asked.

“Just tell her that Bruce Wayne is here to see her.”

The butler stuck his nose up and shut the door, leaving Tommy to wait, sitting on the front steps.

After a minute, Ramona came out the front door with a worried expression on her olive face. “Lo 

siento. Mi papa has taken your girlfriend away.”

He stood up from the steps. “Where is she, Ramona?”

“I think I might know, darling, but you have to come with me. We can drive there together, si?”

He paused, frowning as he thought about if he should trust her. “Fine. Let's take my car. It's parked 

down the street, a block from here.”

“Muy bien.”

He glanced at her as he picked up his car keys in his hand. “Don't get too excited. You're only showing 

me where your father took her, yes? No funny business?”

She smirked. “Of course, darling. What ever were you thinking of? Vamanos!” She hurried down the 

steps and he followed behind her.

~:~

After walking a ways down the street, they got to his car. They got in and he started the car. She gave 

him the directions as he drove down the road in the darkness with only the car lights to show the long 

and winding road. After about fifteen minutes of driving, she made him pull into a deserted parking lot. 

There was an old building.

“So, what now? Where are we?”

“We're at her location.” 

“Okay, then let's go in.” He turned off the car, unbuckled his seat belt and put his hand on the door 

handle. 

“Wait, darling.” She placed her hand on his chest, stopping him. “We have to wait for mi papa's car to 

arrive with his prisoner. He's expecting a ransom.”

“Ransom?” He frowned. “ I don't have any money! You never said anything about a ransom.”

“But I did... yesterday.”

“I thought we were here to kidnap her back without one. I thought we were on the same page.”

“Well, there is one 'other' option.”

“And what's that?”

“I could go in, talk to mi papa and persuade him to release the girl.”

“You would do that?” He looked surprised. “Thank you.”

“Under one condition...”

“Which is?”

“Well, tonight feels like a good night to have some fun, no?”

“What? You want me to take you to pick up some low-life at a downtown bar?”

She laughed. “No. But I am feeling kind of... as you Americans put it... 'horny'.”

He made a small chuckle and looked out the driver's window as he shook his head. “Tell me 

something I don't know.”

“Mm. You know me so well, already. But, I bet you do not know what would help me, no?” 

He turned to look at her, his eye lids relaxed. “Let me guess, some 'vigorous' sex?”

She bit her bottom lip, “mm, you catch on quick. So, how about it, darling?”

He chuckled. “Ramona.. sex is out of the question. I thought I made that clear.”

“Then buh-bye to your girlfriend, no?”

He started breathing heavily in frustration as he turned to stare out the window. There appeared car 

lights pulling in a hundred yards away. It was a van, he watched as four men dressed in black, jumped 

out of the car and then reach inside to pull out Susan, who had been gagged and her hands bound behind

her back.

“You sure?” Ramona reached to place a hand behind his neck, gently spreading her fingers at the base 

of his skull. “They will kill her if we don't show soon.” He turned to watch her as she inched her way 

slowly toward him. She brought her mouth up to his ear. “The tension, darling, don't tell me you don't 

feel it.” She pressed her lips onto the side of his neck and started mouthing him. “Don't you 

remember...” she whispered in his ear, “how good it felt when you pressed yourself-”

“Shut up.” His breathing sounded louder as he looked away from her in search of Susan, but she was 

gone, along with the men. “Why are you-”

“Stop talking.” She cradled his jaw and placed her lips onto his and started kissing him with great 

force.

After a long minute of making out, he eventually pulled away, gasping for air. “You think this is going 

to happen, but it's not!” He pushed her shoulders, making her fall against the car door. 

Her chest moved up in down in sync with her heavy panting. “Eres tan estupido como un perro!” She 

gritted her teeth and came at him again. She threw a thigh over his lap in order to sit on him. She 

gripped his wavy hair roughly and started devouring his mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss while starting to 

rock back and forth quickly on his lap.

He gritted his teeth and let out a low growl. “Is this what you want?” He grabbed her by the arms 

tightly, not pausing to think about what he was doing. He then went in full force, and started sucking 

and biting her neck roughly.

“Ah, yeah. There you go, darling.”

~:~

“You have something that I want, Franco.”

At hearing Tommy's voice, the man spun around to look at him, his eyes wide as he stared at him.“So? 

You're here to pay the ransom for the girl, si?” 

“No.”

“Then, why are you here?”

“Because,” he glanced behind him at Ramona, who was smirking to herself. “Your daughter has 

something to say.”

“What? Ramona? What are you doing here?”

“I made my own deal, papa.” She told him as she stepped forward to face her father.

Susan kept her eyes fixed on Tommy, relishing seeing the sight of him after everything she had been 

through.

Tommy frowned when he checked out her blood soaked shirt from the distance. 

“What?” Franco glanced at his four henchmen beside and also behind him. They were all holding 

guns, trained on Tommy. “And how do you expect to go about taking away my only insurance, when 

there are four guns trained on you?”

Tommy stepped closer. “Well, here's the thing. Ramona and I made a deal.”

The man shook his head. “Heh, a deal? Good luck with making deals with mi daughter.”

“Papa, I told him if he cooperated, I would make you let his friend go.”

Her father frowned.

“How do you expect our operations to work in the future for our business, if we don't follow through 

with the deals we make?”

Tommy gulped, hoping to God that what she was saying would work. He watched her as she 

continued to talk to her father. He found himself admiring the way she spoke with her rich accent, and 

her delicate, dark olive skin. He stared down at her neck, remembering what her soft skin tasted like.

“Okay!” Franco shouted in frustration. “You, sir.” He brought Tommy back to the present as the man 

stared directly at him. “You can take your female back. Hombres, cut her loose and release her!”


	6. If That Were True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy lets Susan know what the 'deal' he made with Ramona is about. But is he telling her everything?

“You don't have to take me to a hospital, Tommy. You're a doctor, you can help me.”

“Alright.” 

She sat down in a chair as he got to work on trying to clear the infection from her shoulder by 

saturating her wound with anti-biotic ointment. He got her fixed up and then helped her into bed.

 

The next morning came, Susan woke up to find Tommy texting, quietly, on his phone while standing 

by the dresser near the bed.

“Good morning.” She yawned, stretching out her arms, “ow! My shoulder... I forgot.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and stared at the center with a blank expression.

She was laying there, her head resting on the soft, white pillow. “What's wrong? You've been awfully 

quiet since we got back last night.”

He looked at her and sighed. “Nothing. I'm just glad you're okay.” He laid his hand on top of hers and 

gave her an insincere smile.

She watched him. “What happened?”

He shook his head, licking his lips. “Nothing, Susan. I just feel guilty for getting you kidnapped. It 

was never my intention, I swear.”

“I know. I don't blame you. But, not to say, that I didn't blame you when I was in the middle of it all.” 

She giggled softly. 

He pursed his lips and nodded almost as if he wasn't listening to what she was saying as he started to 

stand up.

“Tommy,” she grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving. 

“Yeah?”

“About... that 'deal' that you made with that mobster's daughter in order to free me...”

He gulped and looked away from her.

“What was it? What did you have to do?” She stared at him intently for an answer. 

He tried to put on a smile. “Oh, it was just... nothing. She just- uh-”

She squinted her eyes.

“She asked me for a favor. That's all.”

“Oh? What kind of favor?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?! God, Susan.” He stood up from the bed and headed for the 

bedroom door.

Her eyes got big. “What is wrong with you? Did I say something wrong?”

He stopped at the door and turned to face her.

“Tommy, tell me... why was I kidnapped by that woman in the first place? What were you guys 'really' 

whispering about at that party?”

He looked down at his feet, his hand resting on the door frame. “I was being an idiot. I said 

something, not thinking, and... one thing led to another... she got rid of you, thinking it was what I 

wanted.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don't know.” He stared at her, putting his hands in his pockets. “She was jealous of you. She 

thought you and I had a 'thing' going.”

“Oh.” Susan quickly glanced away from him.

He walked up to the bed and sat down again. “Of course, if that were true...” he reached for her hand, 

started studying the back of it, and then looked up. “If that were true, why would we be 

sleeping in the same bed without doing something about it?”

She gulped, her heart rate increasing. “I- I don't know.” 

He reached to rub his hand down her arm as he stood up and smiled. “I'm going to go make something 

for you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Thanks.”

He left the room and went into the kitchen.

~:~

After breakfast in bed, she felt drowsy enough to doze back to sleep. A few hours later she awoke to 

muffled talking in the other room. She sat up in bed, slowly, and tried getting out of bed. “Ah.” She 

touched her shoulder and winced at the soreness of the tissue. She came to the bedroom door, opened it 

the rest of the way and quietly came out into the living room. She saw Tommy on the couch talking on 

the phone in hushed tones. She stopped to listen without being seen.

“Oh, yeah? I know.” He said, sighing. “Maybe tonight if you're not busy.”

Susan squinted her eyes and frowned.

“Mm, oh, god, honey, save that for tonight, alright?... I know, I know. It'll be great. Okay, bye.” He 

hung up and stood up from the couch, his eyes grew huge when he saw Susan standing there. “Uh, hey, 

you're up!”

“Yes, obviously. Who was that?”

“Uh, just a friend.” He headed for the kitchen. “Want some coffee? I'll put on a pot.” He grabbed the 

carafe from the burner.

“Tommy, who are you meeting tonight?”

He turned to face her as he leaned against the stove. “Susan, why are you asking so many questions?”

“Why aren't you answering any? Now, who is this friend? And why are you calling her 'honey'? I'm 

assuming it's a she and she's more than just a friend. Am I right?”

He shook his head as he turned around and started scooping the coffee grounds into the brewer basket. 

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.” She came up to stand in front of him as she put her chin up in the air to appear confident.

He turned around. “You do realize that I don't have to keep you here, right? I could very well just kick 

you out onto the streets. Let you go back to your sister and explain to her why you're injured... and... 

where you were the past few days.” He raised his eyebrows as he stuck his chin in the air.

She held her mouth open in shock at what he was saying. “You would actually kick me out?”

“Maybe. I'm tired of being questioned about everything I do that doesn't involve you. You make me 

feel like I'm doing something wrong or something. You make me feel guilty.”

“Well, are you?”

He stared at her, blankly. “No.”

“Then give me your phone.”

“You're so paranoid, Susan.” He scooted to the side to get away from her. 

She grabbed his shirt, pick pocketing his phone from his back pocket.

“What the hell, Susan? Give it back!”

She ran with the phone into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. She jumped onto the bed and 

quickly tapped through to get to his previous calls screen. Her heart felt as if it dropped and fell to the 

pit of her stomach when she Saw multiple calls from the one and only... Ramona Bartenelli. She gulped 

and threw the phone onto the ground hard, hoping to break it. It fell onto the rug with a loud thud.

“Open the door, damn it!” He banged loudly on the door. 

“Why the hell are you corresponding with that woman, Tommy? She's the one who had me 

kidnapped!”

“I know. I know. Can we talk about this? Please? Just... open the goddamn door, Susan.”

She mustered the strength to stand up, unlock the door and open it. 

He came in and looked to see his phone on the ground. He picked it up and sighed heavily when he 

saw the screen was cracked all the way across the middle. He placed it in his back pocket, went up to 

her to put his arms around her and hold her in an embrace.

At first, she was reluctant to hug him back, but when she heard him soften his voice and speak in low 

tones, she relaxed and felt more malleable. 

“Listen to me. This correspondence with Ramona... is strictly part of our deal. That's all.”

“But, what is this... 'deal'? Why won't you tell me?” Her cheeks felt flushed and tear stained as she 

sniffed her runny nose.

He rubbed her back in circular motions and sighed, his breath tickling her ear. “For the time being, 

Ramona's asking for favors from me.”

“Why do I get the feeling that these favors are sexual?”

He paused. “What would- um, why would you think that?”

She lifted her head to look at him. “The way you were talking. And if I didn't know better, I'd say that 

you were enjoying it.”

He swallowed. “Anything you heard, it's all an act. Okay? Trust me.” He grinned. “You know, if 'I' 

didn't know better, I'd say you're acting jealous.”

She frowned, “this isn't funny, Tommy.”

“I know, I'm sorry. Just... don't worry about it. Okay?”

“But, how am I supposed to go on, knowing that you're practically her slave?”

“I'll figure something out. Okay?”

“Tommy, I would never condone killing, but in this instance, maybe killing Ramona would be the 

only way to get a clean break from her.”

He opened his mouth in shock as he released her. “Susan, that's a very dark thing to say. I-”

“I'm sorry. It's just a thought I had. Maybe... it's something you should consider.”

~:~

He walked down an alleyway that night.

“Pst!” 

He glanced around.

“Over here, darling.” He heard Ramona call from behind a brick wall.

He quickly joined her, a slight smile coming to his face as she grabbed him by his shirt. She 

immediately started bombarding him with kisses on his face and down his neck. She grabbed his belt 

loops and pulled his waist against her.

He gripped onto her dark tousled tresses as he spoke softly as she kissed down his neck. “Ramona, I 

couldn't stop thinking about you.”

“Oh, darling. And I had the most dirty thoughts about 'you' last night. I woke up 'aching'.”

“Oh?” He kissed down her neck and across her collar bone as he held onto her shoulders. “Mm, 

please, tell me all about it.”


	7. Either Her Or Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan waits up, vigil for Tommy to come home after a rendezvous with Ramona.

Tommy arrived back at the safe house at two AM in the morning. He switched on a light in the living 

room to see Susan laying on the couch. He bit his bottom lip and switched off the light.

“Welcome back.” Susan sat up on the couch.

He turned back on the light. “I- I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I was sort of waiting for you to get home.”

“Oh, Susan, you don't have to do that. Don't stay up vigil on my account.” He went into the kitchen, 

got down a glass cup, and started filling it up with water from the fridge.

She stood up and followed him into the kitchen. “I know, I just... couldn't sleep.” She stared at his 

back. “Knowing what you were doing.”

He paused and turned around. “Stop, okay? You don't need to worry about me.”

“I can't help it. I- I feel responsible.”

He opened his mouth in shock. “Susan, listen to yourself. You're not responsible for this. I was the 

reason you got kidnapped in the first place.”

“Yeah, but to save me from those mobsters, you had to-” she paused, glancing away and biting her 

bottom lip.

He stepped forward, placing his hands on both of her arms. “It's late. We're both tired. Let's just go to 

bed and we can worry about this tomorrow... alright?” He gave her an insincere smile and turned to 

head for the bedroom.

“Tommy, I can tell you're not happy.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“Your guilty conscience must be eating you up inside.”

He turned around to look at her as he chuckled, shaking his head. “I'm not guilty at all. Don't you see, 

I 'have' no conscience. It's who I am.”  
“I don't believe that.” She walked up to him. “And I also don't believe that there's nothing between 

us.”

He glanced away from her, licking his lips, trying to calm his breathing.

“Remember what you said? 'If that were true, why would we be sleeping in the same bed without 

doing something about it'? Why else would you say that?”

He shook his head, stepping closer to her. “How do you not explode, Susan? If I over analyzed every 

little thing people say, I think that I would.”

She frowned, “so,” she looked down at his broad chest. “You're saying that those few times that we 

had together... that they didn't mean anything to you?”

He swallowed, looking down at the ground. “Sure, they did.” He looked up at her, blankly.

She frowned, sensing insincerity in his tone, which hit her like a ton of bricks. Without one more word, 

she suppressed her feelings for another time as she went into the bedroom to go to bed.

~:~

 

A knock sounded at the safe house door. Tommy was home alone because Susan had left earlier to go 

into town. He was sitting on the couch with a book as he paused, frowning. 'No one knows I live here. 

Would Susan knock? She has a duplicate key.' He stood up and quietly went to the door. He peeped 

through the peep hole and saw Ramona standing there, making him pause, and his breath catch in his 

throat. 'How did she find me?' He stood up straighter, and in turn, taller, opening the door partway. 

 

“Ramona? How did you find out where I lived?”

She giggled, “why, I had you followed of course, darling.”

He frowned. “You did?” He rolled his eyes, “what am I saying? Of course you did.”

“Well, aren't you going to let me in, handsome?”

He gave her a phony smile while backing way from the door, letting her step inside.

She scanned the place. “Hmph, you sure don't 'live' like a billionaire.”

“Oh, this old place? This place is where I go when I get bored of luxury living in my many mansions.” 

He chuckled nervously.

She made herself at home, seated on the couch, “hmm.”

“So...” he stood by the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Can I get you something?”

“All I want is you, darling, and... your undivided attention.” She patted her hand beside her for him to 

sit down.

He sat next to her, quietly.

“Ooh, ooh, I know!” She grinned. “Let's play a game.”

He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

“It's called: 'I'm thinking of something'.”

“That sounds like you just made that up.”

“No, no, darling. It's the real name of the game. It goes like this... you think of something, and I ask 

you to give me hints; like, is it an animal, is it mechanical.?.. etcetera. You go first.”

He sighed. “Fine.” He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Alright,” he 

looked at her. “I got it.”

“Hmm, is it a color?”

“No.”

“Ooh! Is it an animal?”

“No.” 

“Is it big?”

“Um, yes, actually.”

She licked her bottom lip. “Ooh, is it on your body?” 

“Ugh, oh my god, no. Stop it.”

“What's wrong? No correct?”

“Yes, 'not' correct.” He stared at her, sighing heavily. “Now, I can't even remember what the correct 

answer was.”

“Oops.” She giggled as she punched him in the arm, playfully. “Lo siento.” She paused, grinning. 

“Why are you looking at me that way, darling? You want to... do something 'naughty' to me?”

“What?” He blinked fast. “No. I was just-” 

“Mm, hm. Keep telling yourself whatever you like, darling.”

He shook his head and looked down at the newspaper clippings pinned onto a large piece of 

cardboard on the coffee table. He picked up a loose piece and started reading it.

“What is it you're doing anyway... scrap booking?”

He looked at her directly. “Sort of. Why? You have something else in mind?”

She smirked, “mm, hm. I always have something 'else' in mind, darling.” She reached her hand out 

and placed it on his knee. 

He looked down at her hand, and then at her, seriously. “Don't you have any other hobbies besides...?” 

She giggled. “No, darling. Why do something else if I'm already soooo good at doing something I 

love?” She started moving her hand slowly up his thigh.

He bit his bottom lip while shaking his head as he rested it on the back of the couch, watching her. 

“How the hell did you turn out this way?”

“You're one to talk.” She removed her hand. “How did you turn out the way you are with your 

'unnerving' attitude?” She crossed her arms with a pouty expression.

He raised his eyebrows. “I'd tell you, but it might just turn you on, so I won't.”

She glared at him while he smirked and went back to the newspaper clippings. She stood up, placed a 

thigh over his lap to straddle him. He swallowed and stared at her, but didn't refuse. 

She looked down at his hands and grabbed one to study the front and back of it. “Such masculine, but 

soft hands.” She brought his hand to her mouth, laying a kiss. “I wonder what they can do for me.”

Her lips surrounded his ring finger as she buried it inside her mouth, she kept her eyes fixed on his 

face. He gulped again as he watched her, his lips parting. She put away his hand as she gripped onto his 

hair tightly with both hands, cocking her head as she started to make out with him. He reciprocated as 

he began rubbing his hands over her back.

After a moment, he jerked his head back. “Susan will be home soon. We can't-”

“Who cares, darling? All I care about is what I want this second.” The corners of her mouth raised in a 

slight grin as she whispered in his ear. “Do you want to know my dream about you last night?” She 

slowly started rocking on his lap.

“Mm.”

She sighed, “let's just say... that I woke up 'soaking'... wet.”

He shivered a little, letting out a low moan filled with tension as he started sucking her neck. 

She giggled. “Ah, yeah. I can tell I got you going now, darling.”

The apartment door's lock was turning, but they didn't pay any attention. 

“Ah,” she found herself rocking harder as she panted, “I'm about to explode, darling. I can't do this 

'dry' forever.”

A huge gasp issued from the doorway. They both turned to look. 

Tommy's eyes grew large as he saw Susan standing there with her purse on her shoulder, staring at 

them. “Susan?”

Her face went blank as she looked at Ramona sitting on his lap with a smirk on her face. 

“G-get off me, Ramona.”

“Ugh, fine.” She stood up to sit on the couch beside him.

He stood up. “Susan, I can explain.”

“No.” She put her hand out to shush him. “There's nothing you can explain. I've seen it all.” She 

hurried, quickly pass them and into the bedroom, slamming it behind her.

He frowned as he stared at the closed door. 

“Hmph,” Ramona crossed her arms. “I told you she's in love with you. No one would act like that 

unless they were.”

He shook his head. “Just-” he turned to look at her frowning. “I don't want to hear it, alright?”

“Fine.” She pursed her lips. “Strange... I thought her name was Sara.”

He glanced at her, rolling his eyes as he headed toward the bedroom. He tried opening the door, but it 

was locked shut, so he knocked lightly. “Susan, please open up.” He heard muffled crying, and he 

imagined she must of been wailing into a pillow while laying on the bed. He placed his forehead up to 

the door, banging against it lightly. “Please, Susan.”

“Go away!” She wailed.

“Susan, I already told you about my deal with her. Why are you acting this way?”

“W-why? Why am I-” she suddenly broke into tears again.

He sighed, licking his bottom lip. “If you'd just listen... maybe I could get you to understand. Open up 

so we can talk about this.”

There was silence on the other side, and then a moment later, she opened the door. Her cheeks bright, 

red and tear stained; her eyelids were puffed out and swollen.

He stared at her with a blank expression as he looked over her sad face. “Susan...” he stepped inside 

the room, glancing behind him at Ramona, still sitting on the couch with her legs crossed while 

smirking to herself. He closed the door behind him, noticing Susan wouldn't look at him as she stepped 

back toward the bed.

He got closer to her, holding his arms out to offer a hug.

She turned up her nose, sniffling as she sat down on the bed and looked at him. “No. I don't want you 

touching me.”

He bit his bottom lip, and peered down at the ground. “I understand.”

“Do you?” She looked at him, astonished. “Well, good. 'Cause I sure don't understand how your 

'libido' is so high, that you have to be banging someone on the couch every freakin' day!”

“What?” He looked insulted.

“You're 'pretending' so hard to be billionaire Bruce Wayne, the ultimate playboy. But, you know what? 

It's not an act anymore... you really have become the ultimate 'player'.”

“Susan, that's not true.”

“Yes, yes it is! I've seen you with what... three different women since I've known you in the span of 

one year. And every relationship is built upon a load of lies that you tell them, 'and' that you tell me.”

He shook his head. “Have you forgotten 'our' relationship?”

She looked surprised. “I just didn't think you would care enough to even count it.”

“Susan,” he sat down on the bed beside her, he turned, placing a hand on her knee. “Of course I count 

our relationship.”

She stared down at his hand in silence.

“I count it for what it was.”

She looked at him, questioningly. “What it 'was'?”

“Yes... we had... something. And now,” he shrugged, “can't we still be friends despite our obvious 

differences?”

“No.”

He frowned.

“I can't be your friend... not with how things are right now with Ramona. It's either her... or me...” She 

stood up from the bed, lifted her suitcase, which was nearby, onto it, and then went to the dresser. She 

began taking out her clothes and placing them in piles inside the suitcase.

He watched her, quietly.

“Call me when you're done fooling around with that woman for good...” she stopped to glance at him, 

“or don't. I really don't care anymore.”


	8. Sick In The Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING  
> This is a forewarning I must have on here before anyone reads this chapter. Whoever is sensitive to rape or non-consensual sex acts; Please do not read this following chapter if there's a possibility it could offend, distress or traumatize you in any way. I apologize in advance. Thank you.  
> ~  
> Things get even more strange with Ramona as she takes her bargaining deal with Tommy to an extreme 'nother level.  
> Later, he tracks down Susan at her sister's apartment after two weeks.

The next morning came. Tommy stretched out an arm to the other side of the bed, realizing he was 

feeling empty space. His eyes immediately shot open as he looked to see Susan no longer there beside 

him. He sunk back into the bed, on his back, puffing out a whiff of air as he remembered the terms of 

events from yesterday. Susan had left him. No, they weren't exactly in romantic relationship, but he had 

gotten used to her being there as a companion in the week that she had spent with him. He was used to 

being independent since he was ten years old. He had to take care of his mother when he became a 

teenager and young adult when she got sick. He was thrown into responsibility and he never once 

depended on anyone. But, still, he found himself at the least... missing Susan somehow.

He sat up in bed, leaning back onto his propped up pillow. He looked over at his nightstand, picked up 

his phone and saw five messages from Ramona... and none from Susan. 

'I scared off your friend, lo siento'

'Don't let basura chica bring you down'

'I want to see you tonight, darling'

'Darling, I'll be there tonight'

'Actually, I need your body pronto!'

He laid his head back and sighed with frustration; he then wrote: 'I don't care to see you every day'

Ten seconds later she replied, 'you're cruel to me! I have needs'

He read her text and immediately chuckled mockingly, he stood up and texted back: 'and I have rights'

His phone beeped instantaneously: 'No, darling, you don't'

He paused, staring at the screen as he licked his bottom lip, shaking his head. “Whatever.” He mumbled 

to himself as he went to the closet to get dressed.

~:~

He sat on the couch with a glass of water as he looked at the time on his watch. It was an hour after 

his conversation over text with Ramona, and he expected to see her show up soon like she said that she 

would. Sure enough, there was a knock on the door. He gulped and stood to answer it, opening the door 

as he braced himself. She stood there with two tall bodyguards on each side of her.

He frowned. “What is this?”

“I've been too easy on you, Mister Wayne. Since you're not willing to go along with the deal we made, 

I brought back up.”

“Are you kidding me?

“I rarely 'kid' about business, darling.” She stuck her chin in the air.

He planted his feet in the ground, holding tightly onto the rim of the door. “Business?” He shook his 

head. “This isn't business, Ramona. I don't know what they call it where you come from, but in 

America, it's called sex trafficking.”

“Mm, but you see, anything can be a business with the right entrepreneur. And you agreed to it. 

There's no going back, darling. I just happen to be a great entrepreneur. Mm.”

The two men pushed Tommy into the door, swinging it open as they both grabbed onto his arms 

tightly. 

He gritted his teeth, “argh! Get off me! Help!” 

Ramona was the one to close the door and lock it securely. “Hold him still, boys... I'll give him the 

sedative.” She told the men. The briefcase that she had with her, she placed it onto the couch; opening 

it, she pulled out a syringe. She prepped it, removing any air bubbles by pressing a tiny amount of the 

liquid out the needle. She walked over to Tommy, who was pinned against the wall by the men. She 

stuck the needle into the side of his neck. He stared at her, the truth of what kind of person she actually 

was brought to light in his eyes.

“W-why? Why are you doing this?”

She looked at him and laughed. “Oh, darling. Relax. Let the sedative ease your anxiety... I'm not 

giving you too much... I want you awake to perform for me.” She smirked.

He cringed, raising his upper lip. “Perform?” he managed to get out with strained diction.

“Mm. Yes, darling... perform.”

Their victim was already feeling weaker as they drug him over to the living room, pushed him down 

into a chair and tied his wrists to the back of it tightly.

“Tear off his shirt.” She ordered the men.

Tommy scowled at the man who was trying to lift up his pine green t-shirt. He head bumped the man, 

making him step backward in pain. “Ah!” He pursed his lips, pulling out a pocket knife from his back 

pocket as Tommy's eyes grew large. The man held his shirt tight and cut it down the middle all the way 

through and then yanked it down, having it hang loose over his tied wrists.

The other man took another rope and started wrapping it all around his bare torso, tying it in a knot 

like a hangman's noose.

Tommy started perspiring as he watched Ramona walk circles around him, giggling with pleasure. 

“Now, his pants.”

One of the men went over to kneel down in front him, but then she halted him. “Wait, actually... I'll do 

the honors. Mm.” She went over to kneel in front of him, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

He struggled even more now, hoping he could magically escape before it went any further.

“You should be grateful, darling. Usually my father and I put people like you up on the market. But, 

you...” she looked at him intently, “oh, darling, when I saw you, I just knew I wanted you all for 

myself. I'm the jealous type, you see. I couldn't bare the thought of some other woman...” she chuckled, 

“actually, most likely, some 'man' having his way with you.” 

Tommy gulped, closing his eyes, trying to mentally block out what she was saying. 

She went over, and straddled his lap as she reached for his belt buckle while she kept her dark eyes on 

him. 

He groaned, trying to get her off, but making it more obscene as he tried swaying his hips from side to 

side.

“Oh, darling, not yet. Let's get your pants off first.”

He gritted his teeth in anger. Not knowing if she actually had a false perception of his body movement 

or if she was just trying to aggravate him more. “No! Stop touching me.. argh... get off!”

“Mm.” She undid his belt and pants, then stood up in order to pull them down. 

He struggled as one of the men started to help her slide his pants all the way off and onto the ground, 

leaving him in his underwear. 

She turned toward her two goons.“You boys can go wait outside now. I'll call you if I need any more 

assistance.”

They both nodded and went out the door. She went over, locking it after them; then back to stand in 

front of Tommy. She was licking and biting her bottom lip as if he was a delicious meal to feast upon.

He watched her and then looked away quickly, noticing that she was checking out every inch of his 

body.

“Oh, darling.” She began walking circles around him, sliding her hand along his broad shoulders and 

chest each time she passed by. She stopped behind him, kneeling down, gripping onto the sides of his 

head, her long fingernails dug into his scalp. She brought her lips to the back of his ear, licking and 

then nibbling it hard. He tightened his lips in pain and started taking shorter breaths as she opened her 

mouth to run her tongue down the length of his neck. She then rubbed her hands down to his stomach 

and back up to his chest. 

She stood up straight, turned to stand in front of him and ran her eyes over his body again with great 

appreciation as she reached inside her jean back pocket, retrieving a pocketknife. He stared at her, 

wondering what she was going to do next. She opened it, placing the blade up to his jawline; with the 

tip of it, she scratched the surface of his skin as he held his breath in anxiety. 

“Mm.” She laughed, noticing the angst in his breathing pattern and the stress induced perspiration 

forming over his chest and face. “Are you scared I'm going to hurt you, darling?” 

He raised his upper lip. “Shouldn't I be?”

She took the blade, putting it up to his inner thigh and drawing a line with the pointed edge down to 

his knee, creating a bright red line.

He groaned in pain, clenching his teeth, “uh, god, you're sick in the head.”

She smirked, “not sick, darling... just very naughty. Say it. Tell me I'm a naughty girl.”

“Screw you.”

“Mm,” she stared down at the wound that she inflicted on his inner thigh; she got down on her knees, 

bringing her face to his leg. His breath caught in his throat while biting his bottom lip in anticipation 

She started running her tongue along the inside of his knee, and then began going up higher; the entire 

length of the scratch. Once her tongue reached up, his body involuntarily twitched. He cursed to 

himself as he tried to control his thoughts, but he knew he could only control his body's natural 

response to a degree.

She noticed, lifting her head to look at him. “You're aroused now, darling. I can tell.”

“Go to hell,” he spat; the pleased look on her face making him angry. 

She stood up, throwing a leg over to straddle him, gripping onto his hair, she pulled it roughly in order 

to make him look at her. 

She pushed her breast into his face, digging her nails into his bare shoulder muscles. “Say it. Tell me 

I'm a naughty girl.” She then leaned back, holding onto his shoulders to look at him.

He glared at her, “no.”

She then placed the knife to his throat, letting the tip poke into him just deep enough to draw a drop of 

blood. “Tell me.”

He spoke through his teeth, “you're... a naughty girl.”

“Mm, yes, I am. I love the sexual aggression in your voice when 'you' say it.” She pressed herself 

down onto him hard and started rocking back and forth. “If you don't at least try to act like you're 

enjoying yourself, I won't have to use force.”

He growled.” Argh, w-wait...”

She paused.

“So, you're saying that... if I cooperate with your sick fantasy of tying men to chairs while you 

sexually exploit them...” he paused, watching her smirk proudly. “You'll let me go... and we'll go on, 

living our lives as usual?”

She cocked her head. “Ummm, si, that sounds about right. Except...” she traced her fingernail down 

one of his pecks, flicking his nipple.

He kept a straight face as he inwardly winced.

“... I still own you.”

“What?”

“You 'and' your body... whenever I please.”

He kept his face solemn. “Fine.” He lied.

She giggled. “Mm, darling.” She rubbed her hand down his chest. “Do you really think you can 

handle me?”

~:~

Two weeks later. Susan was at her sister's apartment alone while her sister was at work. She was in 

the kitchen when she heard a knock on the apartment door. She put down the pan she had just gotten 

out of a cupboard and went straight to the door. She opened it to see Tommy standing there, wearing a 

dark brown, long, wool coat and a matching flat cap. It reminded her of when she had first seen him in 

Sunrise cafe almost a month ago. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she froze at the surprise of seeing him at her sister's doorstep. 

“Tommy.” She glanced down at his chest in order to avoid making eye contact.

“Susan. I-”

She jerked her head to look up as she interrupted him. “How'd you find me? I never gave you this 

address.” She sounded solemn and he could tell that she was still holding a grudge.

“I might've asked about you around town.”

“This is a huge city. I hardly believe that. I don't know anyone here.”

“Heh...” he tilted his head down, glancing back up at her in a bashful kind of way as he thought of 

how he really tracked her down by tracing the chip in her phone, using her phone number.

“So...” she sighed and raised her chin proudly. “What do you want? You could've just called, you 

know. Like you also could've done these past couple of weeks.”

He glanced away. “I'm sorry I hadn't. I've- been in a very bad state since you left me.” He stood up 

straighter. “Um, I mean-” he shook his head, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Not 'left' me, but, you 

know, left my apartment and decided not to live with me anymore... Ahem.” He watched her closely for 

a response.

“Yeah.” She let go of the doorknob, stepping closer to him as she got in his face. “And you remember 

'why' I left you, right?”

He gulped as he stared at her lips, her face just inches from his. 

“You were displaying one on one; how to dry-hump someone on a couch where anyone could just...” 

she pouted her lips, “'waltz' in anytime... like I did.” She scanned his face briefly and then stepped 

back.

He sighed, “can we talk inside for a moment?”

She glanced off into the distance behind him, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Please, Susan. It's freezing out here.”

“Ugh, fine. But... if I'm going to be having a conversation with you, I'm going to need a drink.” She 

opened the door for him to enter, he went in and she offered him to take a seat on the couch. She 

headed into the kitchen for a glass goblet and a bottle of red wine. Joining him on the couch, she 

opened the bottle with a corkscrew, and poured a large glass full. “I know you don't drink,” she 

mumbled, “so, I won't even offer you any.”

He watched her quietly as she began chugging the wine down as fast as possible without choking.

“Ah, that's better.” She sighed. “Think I'm already feeling it, thank God.”

He blinked. “Exactly what kind of conversation do you think I'm wanting to have?”

“No clue. But the fact that it's with you is enough.”

“Point taken.”

“So... I'll start. Where the hell have you been? I actually tried visiting you a couple times, but you 

never were home.”

He sighed. “I wasn't home because I moved out.” 

“Oh. Really? Why's that?” She poured herself a second glass.

“I can't let Ramona and her goons know where I live.”

“Ha! Crazy ex girlfriend, huh? Wow. How am I not surprised?” Her tone was thick with contempt.

“Look, I knew that Ramona and her father were in the mob, but I didn't realize...” he paused, “how 

evil they were.”

“What? What is it they're doing, besides kidnapping people for ransoms?”

“They're running sex trafficking operations here in New York City.”

She gasped, sarcastically. “Oh, no. What are we going to do, Tommy?” She laughed, taking another 

gulp of her red wine.

He frowned. “I'm being serious. I found out all about it...” he paused, mumbling under his breath, 

“firsthand.”

“What did you say? 'Firsthand'? What did she do? Rape you? Ha! You expect me to believe that, after 

I saw you two 'grinding' on the couch a couple weeks ago? That sure looked consensual to me.” She 

tried taking another gulp, but he immediately grabbed a hold of her wrist to stop her.

“Listen to me...” he gritted his teeth, “can you just stop thinking about what happened 'before' and 

take seriously what's happening right 'now'? Because it 'is' serious.”

She frowned, staring at him as she set down her glass; and almost seemed to immediately sober up. 

“Fine. You're saying there's actually sex trafficking going on 'here' in New York?”

“Yes. There's trafficking of millions all around the world, Susan.”

“I know, I just... never thought about it... I guess I didn't really want to... you know, it's too scary.”

“Yeah, well-” he paused. “No, I shouldn't even be thinking of mentioning this to you.” 

“What?”

“Well... I'm going after these operations that hold these people captive. I could really use all the help I 

can get.”

“What about the FBI?” She paused, “oh. I almost forgot... we're both not on very good terms with 

them.” She started reaching for her glass goblet, but paused and sighed as he widened his eyes, shaking 

his head. She rested her hands on her lap. “So... you're asking me to help you, then?”

“Perhaps. Have you ever handled a gun before?”

“I was a detective, Tommy. Of course I have.”

“Yes, but have you ever shot someone with the intention of killing them?”

She paused, biting her bottom lip. “Well, not exactly. I never wanted to be responsible for taking 

someone's life... even a bad guy's... but-”

“But could you, if the situation called for it, Susan?” He turned toward her, gripping a hand on her 

arm, and gazing intently.

She felt obligated to agree, “I think so.”

He gave her a tiny smile as he nodded with encouragement. “Susan... I know this kind of goes without 

saying, but, remember... these people deserve death... not jail time that they'll just get out after their 

very short sentences, just to do it again.”

“I'll try to remind myself of the fact.”


	9. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy gets woken up in the middle of the night by an unexpected dream of Susan.  
> WARNING: Contains sexual content

Susan opened her eyes in bed for a second and then shifted her face in order to lay a soft kiss on his 

lips. She leaned back to look at him as she grabbed his hand and placed it around her waist, whispering 

impatiently in his ear. “Kiss me now.” 

He gripped his hand around her waist and stared at her mouth. “No.”

“Yes. You know you want to.

“No.” He said more firmly, lifting his eyes to look at her.

She pursed her lips, reaching to tug on his shirt to bring him closer. She reached a hand on the back of 

his head, bringing his face toward hers. She laid her lips on his, pulling back with a loud lip-smacking 

noise. He was silent. She leaned in again, yanking his hair this time, almost painfully and started to 

make out with him while he started to reciprocate.

She let out an excited, shrilling sigh as she sat up in bed and moved to sit on top of him, pulling the 

covers down. She stared at him, and he sensed a strong frustration toward him. Without her realizing 

that it left an angry expression on her face. He stared at her with a confusedly as his chest moved up 

and down in dramatic expression.

She roughly pulled on his shirt, tearing it off from the seams. He was amazed at how easily it tore. 

She pushed him down to lay on the bed. Then she slid her hands down his chest, using her nails to 

scratch his skin.

“Ah.” He groaned, feeling the stinging, but feeling out of control of the situation. She leaned forward 

on him and started licking a scratch mark that she had left on his chest. His heart started to race as he 

bit his bottom lip as he watched her open her mouth to bite onto an ab muscle, she came up with blood 

on her bottom lip.

“Ah.” His breathing quickened as she pulled his hair roughly. She pulled his face towards her as she 

opened her mouth wide to completely devour his in a sloppy make-out. She pushed the tip of her 

tongue inside his mouth, touching all around his gums. She bit his lip, drawing blood during the kiss. 

“Ah,” he jerked his head away from her.

She frowned at him as she ground her pelvis down onto his. She pulled his hair roughly and then 

squeezed hard onto one of his biceps.

“Are you trying to give me bruises or something?”

She started rocking back and forth on him, pressing into him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his mouth hang open. “Uh, gah.” His hips started to twitch as 

his arousal escalated while she continued to yank on his hair.

He groaned, “Susan, stop.”

“Why?” She yanked his hair even tighter.

“Because you're hurting me.” He wrapped his hands around her wrists, using his strength to 

overpower her, and untangling her hands out of his hair. He pushed her off of him and brutally threw 

her onto the bed. He got on top of her, his hands holding down her wrists, so she couldn't get out from 

under him.

She laid there panting, a smile coming to her face. “What are you going to do? Retaliate?” She spoke 

in a seductress tone.

He frowned at her, clenching his teeth. “Susan, that's enough! Stop acting like this.”

She relaxed her legs, opening them and letting them fall to his sides. She raised her chin, revealing her 

Adam’s apple. “You wanted to know what my favorite position was.” She panted, “remember, 

darling?”

He stared at her seriously. A flashback of him teasing her about her favorite sexual position while 

playing “twenty questions” in Sunrise cafe. But, then also, Ramona came to mind, her rich Argentinian 

accent calling him the repetitive “darling”.

“What did you just call me?”

She was silent as she lifted her pelvis to thrust against him slowly with her mouth hanging open. He 

heard her let out a long moan of pleasure which simultaneously sent the same feeling through his own 

body. 

He suddenly sat up in bed, waking up, panting and in a cold sweat. He gulped hard, realizing it was all 

a dream, but nonetheless, extremely turned on by it. He groaned in disappointment as he laid back 

down in the dark. His pulse pounding in his head as the blood was rushing from head to toe. He tried to 

calm himself from the strong urge to vigorously hump against something. He closed his eyes, sighing 

with frustration, and feeling his hormones violently coursing through his bloodstream. He tried to get 

his mind off of it and allow his body to settle back to a normal state. 

While he laid there, he tried to decipher in his head what the dream meant. Susan was acting unlike 

herself, she was acting more like... he shook his head, trying to erase Ramona's face from his mind. He, 

honestly, felt sick to his stomach just thinking about the woman. 

 

He wondered why he would have had a dream like that about Susan in the first place. Sure, he thought 

she was marvelously attractive, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't miss her sex, but he didn't see 

anything romantic in the future for them. A part of him didn't want them to become something... 

Perhaps he just didn't want another relationship. After all, relationships kept proving to be too stifling. 

He knew he couldn't sit still doing the same thing, or being with the same person for too long or he'd go 

out of his mind. 

~:~

He opened the safe house door to Susan. She came in straight away with her bags in hand, almost as if 

she owned the place already; She placed her bags beside the rug at the door.

He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head. “Are you moving in?”

She immediately looked at him and smiled. “Yes, that is... if it's alright with you.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He shut the door behind her, turning around, he gulped as he tried not to look at 

her. He couldn't help but think about his dream he had last night and how seeing her now, brought the 

excited feelings rushing back to the forefront of his consciousness. He could still hear in his head, her 

long moan of pleasure from his dream. He had heard her expressing her delight in bed in the past, but 

he just didn't realize how it was still so clear in his mind. Each time he thought about it, he felt himself 

get turned on just a little bit.

“...Tommy? Are you even listening to me?”

“W-what?” He blinked himself back to the present.

“Where were you just now?”

“Um,” he looked away from her, shaking his head, “n-nowhere. Just... a lot on my mind this 

morning.”

“Oh, I know, same here. But, we need to stay focused. Okay?”

He flashed his eyebrows as he crossed his arms. “Well, aren't you spry this morning?”

She chuckled, “and 'you' seem to be out of it. Shouldn't 'I' be the one having a hangover?”

He glanced away from her. “It's not a hangover. Just...” he shook his head, “I had the strangest dream 

last night.”

“Oh, really? What about?” She headed for the kitchen. “I'm going to make a pot of coffee. Want 

some?”

He followed her, watching her back. 

“Where do you keep-”

“In the second cabinet, on the right.”

“Oh.” She opened the cabinet, reached for the bag of coffee, and then began preparing the coffee 

maker. “So, what were you saying about this dream of yours that kept you up last night?”

“Oh.” He shook his head, leaning against the stove. “Um, nothing. It was just-” he sighed as he stared 

at her back.

After she turned on the coffee maker, she turned around to interrupt him. “Actually I had a kind of 

weird dream last night too.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Really? Ahem... what about?” He stood up straighter.

“I can hardly remember the details now... It seemed like it had something to do with you, though.”

“Really?” His voice cracked.

She paused and smiled. “What are you... going through puberty still?” 

He let out a fake laugh, glancing away from her, feeling extremely embarrassed that his anxiety was 

showing.

The coffee was done brewing and the last few puffs of steam were released through the top of the lid. 

“Where are your mugs?”

“Up, right in front of you.”

She opened the cabinet, grabbing two ceramic mugs, turning around, one accidentally slipped out of 

her hand. “Oh, no!” She cried, “I'm so sorry.”

“No. It's okay.” He reached for the broom beside the refrigerator and walked up to where she was 

kneeling down, trying to pick up the large pieces and placing them in a pile. “I'll do it, Susan.” He held 

the broom straight up. “Leave it. You don't have to-”

“Oh, okay. I just feel bad, I-” She looked up to see his groin area right in front of her face. “Um...” she 

immediately looked away, embarrassed.

He noticed her reaction and backed away.

She stood up, brushing her hands against the front of her blue jeans, avoiding eye contact.

He knelt down and began sweeping the glass pieces into the dustpan while she quietly got down 

another mug and set it down on the counter. She poured their cups full of coffee and quietly began 

taking a sip of hers. After he emptied the dust pan of shattered ceramic into the trashcan, he received 

the cup of coffee that Susan had set aside for him. He leaned against the the counter beside her as he 

kept his gaze fixed on her.

She took a sip of her steaming mug while meeting his gaze. “You're awfully quiet.” She tried to smile.

He sighed. “Am I?”

She gulped, lowering her mug to her chest as she realized that his stare was relentless and he seemed 

to be wanting to tell her something with his eyes.

He placed his cup down onto the counter beside him and then slowly started to reach for hers. She 

continued holding his gaze as she let him take her mug away from her and set it down beside his. He 

moved in closer, rubbing his hand down her arm, she felt chills run down her spine. He brought his 

hand to comb through her blonde, wavy hair. She wrapped an arm around his neck as he cocked his 

head slightly and started kissing her. After a moment, they started running their hands over each other's 

bodies quickly as the rhythm of their mouths and tongues escalated. She was pinned against the counter 

while his body pressed against her, she reached a hand behind him to grab his butt. He rubbed his hands 

over her back, reaching underneath her shirt and feeling her bare skin and snap of her bra.

“No. I'm not ready for this. I can't.” She grabbed a hold of his hands, bringing them away from her 

body as she shook her head. She looked away from him, pressing on his chest lightly in order to push 

him away. She sighed, “it's not that I'm not turned on by you right now, I am, gosh, believe me... your 

hands feel amazing on my skin... it's just-”

He stepped back while licking his lips. “Yeah, um...” he looked to the ground, “I don't know why I 

threw my self on you like that. I apologize.”

“No, no. Don't be sorry. I just need some time to figure things out.”

He nodded, “I understand.”

“It just... doesn't feel like the right thing to do... because of the recent events and... our- um... current 

circumstances.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and reached beside her, brushing his arm against hers to pick up his 

mug. He took a sip of the now cool coffee, then grimaced, “cold...” as he stared at her.

She looked away from him and gulped as she immediately realized that she wished she hadn't stopped him.


	10. Tunnel of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going after Ramona's operations, Tommy and Susan go on a little road trip

Tommy and Susan sat down at the kitchen table in his apartment and brought out both of their laptops 

and got to work researching anything they could about where these sex trafficking operations could 

possibly be taking place.

After three long hours of researching and no immediate results, Tommy leaned back in his chair with 

a frustrated sigh as he looked at her while lowering his eyelids. “You still all hot and bothered from this 

morning?”

“What?” Her cheeks immediately flushed as she let out an embarrassed giggle. She made sure not to 

pay him any attention while keeping her eyes on her computer screen. She then took a deep breath, sat 

up straight in her chair and gave him direct eye contact as she raised her eyebrows. “Why? Are you still 

hot and bothered?”

He parted his lips, staring at her seriously and then letting an amused smile come to his face.

She looked away, wondering what he was thinking and wishing she hadn't teased him back in fear of 

such. “Uh, I think I found something.” She pointed at the computer screen.

He stood up to look over her shoulder, squinting his eyes as he read aloud. “There have been 

mysterious people reported doing suspicious activity around the Gotham bay docks. Coincidentally a 

hot spot where hundreds of women and children have been reported to have gone missing in the past 

two years.”

“That means we have to go back to Gotham.” She bit her bottom lip, worriedly.

He looked at her, his face only inches from hers. “It's a four hour drive.”

She smirked. “I guess this calls for a little bit of a road trip then, huh?”

“Heh. Oh, goody.”

“What's wrong? You're scared of being alone with me in a car for hours and hours and hours?”

He grinned, “maybe.”

“Well, maybe I'm scared of being alone with 'you'.”

“What are you talking about? We're always alone together.”

“I know, but never in a confined space for a long period of time. I might just pass out.”

He chuckled, “mm.” He leaned over and spoke almost in a whisper behind her ear. “Don't worry, I'll 

find ways to keep you awake.”

She found herself shivering at the sensation of his breath on her ear as she tried gulping away any 

excitement and anticipation that tried to bombard her senses. She looked to see him smirk as she 

watched him turning to shut down his laptop.

~:~

After the four hour car ride, they parked the car and diligently searched around the Gotham bay area. 

They eventually found a hidden entrance to a tunnel. He placed a hand on her shoulder before they 

went in. “This might be it, Susan. If they're in here... I don't think they'll be armed, but once you see 

these men, they'll most likely be dressed in black... don't hesitate to shoot.”

She gulped nervously, nodding. “Alright. Let's get this over with.”

They went down many dark hallways in the underground tunnel until they got to a clearing which was 

dimly lit by torches. They stepped out into the open, quietly looking around to see about fifty women 

and children lying and sitting on cotton blankets on the dirt ground. Ten bodyguards, dressed in black, 

just like Ramona's goons, stood around the perimeter, talking to each other and completely off guard.

“You never expected anyone to ever find you, did you?” Tommy pointed his gun at the men, who 

were standing there, helpless in surprise. It took only a couple seconds each to shoot every man 

down. He knew they were all working for Ramona and her father. Once all of the men fell limp to the 

ground, succumbing to their bullet wounds, Tommy scanned the room, seeing the women and children, 

who were now rising to their feet. “You're free! Now, I want all of you to go straight to the police 

station. I need you, women, to keep a close watch on any children and make sure that they stay right by 

your side at all times. Don't leave anyone behind... Susan,” he grabbed her arm, “maybe you should-”

She quickly nodded in agreement. “I'll escort them to the police station. Then I'll get out of there as 

fast as I can before they ask me any questions.”

He nodded and watched as Susan took charge of the group of people and showed them the way out of 

the tunnel safely.

Once all of the hostages were out of the place, Tommy squinted his eyes, going over every alleged 

dead body and making sure that they were indeed all dead. He then froze when he saw Ramona, who 

had just arrived to watch in despair at seeing all of her slaves now gone, leaving the place hollow. She 

shook her head and made eye contact with Tommy as he came up to her quickly. 

She scowled, “!Estúpido idiota! What have you done?!”

He gritted his teeth, pushing her down and making her fall to the cold, hard ground.

“Ah!”

He stood over her, straddling her legs, he pulled out a pocket knife. He squatted down, mushing her 

lips together with his hand and then moving his hand down around her throat in a strong grip. “As you 

can see all of your men are dead. Here's to the end of your charade, darling.”

She squirmed, trying to get away.

“I'm going to enjoy watching the life fade from your eyes, Ramona.” He stuck the knife to her 

clavicle.

She frantically cried. “What about our child?!”

“What?”

She tried untangling his grip from her throat as she gasped for air, producing a hoarseness in her 

voice. “Darling... I'm pregnant.”

He gasped, freezing in place as he slowly released her throat; he then shook his head with disbelief as 

he re-tightened his grip. “You want me to believe that I'm the father? Yeah, right.” He clenched his jaw, 

speaking through his teeth. “Who's to say he isn't some other victim that you screwed?”

“But, darling... there's no one else... not recently.”

He froze, the reality of her possibly being pregnant with his own child starting to sink in.

“You would take the innocent life of... ah.. o-our child?” 

“Tommy!” Susan called from the entrance. “I gave the police an anonymous tip. They'll be here any 

minute. Quick! We gotta get out of here now!”

He stood up, staring at Ramona, he glanced down at the small, bulging bump underneath her 

bellybutton. “Good luck in prison, honey.”

She gasped, an astonished expression on her face. “Darling, please. Let me escape before the police 

get here. Please! I beg of you!” She pulled at his pant leg, tears streaming down her face.

He shook his head. “What you're doing here is wrong. I can't allow you to continue to run your 

twisted operations!”

“Please!”

He bit his bottom lip and yanked his leg out of her grasp. He heard sirens getting closer as he joined 

Susan and the two ran off into the dark.

~:~

The two were jogging down an alleyway, trying to get to their car when someone came behind them. 

Tommy suddenly was pushed up against a brick wall with a gun held to his head. He tried to reach for 

the gun in his holster, but his attacker kept his arm pinned down. Tommy frowned, noticing a dark red 

helmet in the street lit night. “Red Hood?”

The hood scowled under his red helmet. “And you're the infamous Tommy Elliot. Who's the young 

lady?”

Tommy glanced behind him at Susan, who looked nervous because of the vigilante, holding the gun. 

“She's a friend. She just came along for the ride. She's not a part of anything.”

“Yeah, sure, right.”

“Just...” he rolled his eyes, “we're doing good here. Just watch the news tomorrow and you'll see. And 

get your dumb piece of metal out of my peripheral.”

The hood chuckled, retrieving his gun and placing it back inside his holster on his leg. “So, why are 

you here, Elliot?” He backed away from him.

Tommy shook his head, rolling his eyes. “All I'll tell you is that we're simply doing Gotham City some good. 

Stuff that you and your family should've been taking care of, but weren't.”

“So, what... you're trying to redeem yourself or something?”

“Can't you just believe that we're trying to do good here and shut up about it as you leave us alone?”

“The only thing I can believe... is my seeing you coming back to Gotham after you know no one wants 

you here. On second thought, maybe the police do. You know how many warrants there are out for your 

arrest? It would sure make their lives easier if you just stayed put in Gotham and let them catch you.”

“Can you stop seeing black and white for once, and listen to what I just was saying?”

“Black and white? There's no one else in Gotham who sees more 'gray' than I do.”

“If that were true, you'd shut your punk kid, biased mouth up and listen to me.”

The Red hood paused, then released Tommy's shirt as he stood up to gain some distance. “Fine...” he 

leaned his back against the wall, taking out a cigarette and a lighter from his jacket pocket. “Speak.”

Tommy glared at the lad. “I'm not a dog, you imbecile.”

The boy lit his cigarette and puffed smoke from his nose and mouth. “Oh, really? Then show me 

otherwise, Elliot. And tell me your convenient reason for being back in Gotham.”

“Hmph. I don't need to justify myself to you.” He brushed off his shirt and pants as he stood up taller, 

he glanced at Susan, who looked a little freaked out by the Red hood as she stood in a corner watching 

both of them.

“Just tell me why the hell you'd even want to come back to Gotham?” Red Hood demanded.

“You're some dumbass punk if you think I'd actually 'want' to be here. No one in their right mind 

would possibly want to be in Gotham unless they were insane. Besides maybe Bruce... oh, wait.” He 

smirked. “I guess that explains a lot.”

Jason shook his head. “I may hate Bruce just as much as you do, but at least, I respect him... which is 

way more than can be said for you.”

“Heh. Believe me, Todd. No one hates Bruce as much as I do, and I for one, especially, don't respect 

the bastard.”

“I don't get you, Elliot. Bruce has done nothing but good things for you and treated you kindly and 

you just hate him for no reason at all.”

Tommy pushed the hood against the brick wall, aggressively gripping onto his jacket in anger. “You 

stupid kid! You have no idea about my relationship with Bruce!” He almost forgot Susan was behind 

him, about ten feet away, watching the whole thing; he glanced behind him. She looked extremely 

surprised, as if she didn't realize his hate for Bruce was still very strong, even after all this time away 

from him. “And you're just like him, you know that?” Tommy grimaced. “Maybe that's why I find your 

guts so repulsive.” He held his chin high and looked away from the hood as he joined Susan and 

grabbed a hold of her arm. “Susan, let's get out of here.”

She frowned as she got one last glance of the hood and the two started down the street.

~:~

Tommy and Susan got to the car which was parked in an inconspicuous parking spot behind a tall and 

thick tree. 

“You want to drive?” He asked, tossing her the car keys.

“Sure.” She unlocked the car doors and they got inside. He put on his seat belt in the passenger seat 

while she stepped on the gas, speeding away and pulling out onto a country road. 

It was a drive in silence as they drove down the practically deserted roads, with just a few cars passing 

them by every five minutes or so. 

“Are you doing okay?” She asked him, giving him a quick glance from the high beam lit road in front 

of her.

He sighed, relaxing back into the chair as he laid his chair back a little. “Yeah. I- I was just thinking.”

“'Bout what?”

“Uh,” he sat up straight, shaking his head, “maybe we should get a room. It's a four hour drive and 

we've just been going fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, yeah, you're probably right. I am tired.” She glanced at the brightly lit, digital clock. “It's two 

Am anyway.”

“I believe I saw a hotel to your left on our way. It should be around here.”

Sure enough, a hotel came into view and Susan pulled into the parking lot. They got out of the car and 

headed for the entrance. The checked into the hotel and the hotel clerk led them to their door, number 

ten, just down the first hall. They thanked the clerk and went inside, switching the lights on, revealing 

two full-size beds with a small nightstand in between them.

Susan went to sit on the bed closest to the door. “This place isn't too bad. Not super high class, but it's 

not a dog hotel either.”

He chuckled, “yeah.” He checked out the mini fridge against the wall. “Ooh, free bottles of water.” He 

knelt down, picking up two, he tossed one to Susan as she caught it. “Mmm, someone also left us some 

moldy lasagna in a to-go box.” He picked up the styrofoam container and showed it to her, revealing 

spots of gray mold growing inside it.

She crinkled her face in disgust. “Gross. Throw that out.”

He smirked, standing up as he tossed the rancid item into the trash. He went to sit beside her as he 

unscrewed his water bottle and tilted his head back to let the cold water run down his parched throat. 

He looked at her. “You're not hungry, are you?”

She tightened her lips, rubbing her belly. “A little, but I'm too tired to go back out.”

“Oh, I can order room service.” He started to stand up, but she grabbed a hold of his arm.

“You think a place like this has room service, Tommy?”

“Don't all hotels have room service?”

She smiled, “only five star, I'm afraid. I know you were raised filthy rich and must've only had only 

the best of the best... but I'm telling you, this hotel isn't exactly a five. Maybe a two and a half.” She 

shrugged.

He sighed. “You're right.”

“I'll be fine. I can hold off.”

“You sure? I could run down to a drugstore and get something.”

“No, no. I'm sure.”

He tightened his lips and nodded, placing a hand on her knee. 

She stared down at his hand in silence.

“You wanna take a shower?”

She flashed her eyebrows. “You mean, together?”

“Oh, uh,” he closed his eyes, “no. That's not what I meant.”

“Oh, okay.” She gulped. “Then, uh, you go first.” She smiled, nervously.

“Oh, no, you go first.”

“No. I insist. You paid for the room, you get the first hot water. It's hotter the first time, you know.”

“Is it?” He stared down at her lips.

“Oh, yeah. Positive.” She smiled.

“We're talking about water, right?”

“Um, yeah. What else would we be... um... talking about?” She babbled awkwardly, pulling a strand 

of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Oh, okay. Be right out.” He stood up and went inside the bathroom.

After ten minutes, he came out in lounge pants, a tee shirt and a white hotel towel around his neck. 

She admired his dark hair, it was damp and a little bit messy and his clean skin was practically glowing.

She quietly made her way to the bathroom, trying not to let him know that she was checking him out.

After her shower, she saw him already laying in bed on his back with his knee up. She put on a smile 

and crawled into the bed beside him, laying on her side. He turned his head to give her a shy grin as she 

kept her eyes on him. 

“Look at us.” She said, “sleeping in separate beds.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “We're practically saints now.”

“Oh, I don't know about that.”

He met her eye contact directly as she flushed in embarrassment as she hurriedly reached to turn off 

the lamp on the nightstand. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.”

She sunk into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she closed her eyes, trying to get warm in 

the chilly hotel room.

She found herself reliving the events of the day inside her head for about an hour. She opened her 

eyes, resigning to the fact that she couldn't sleep. Not after the adrenaline rushing events of the night. 

She looked over in the darkness to see him laying on his side, facing away from her. She shivered in the 

cold air as she stepped out of her bed, she stood by his bed, lifted the covers and sheets quietly and laid 

underneath them beside him. She put her arm around him, snuggling up to his warm body as she 

pressed against him, her breath ghosting the back of his neck. She squeezed her arm around him for a 

second and sighed with content at holding him close.

He quietly woke up to her spooning him. He reached to rub her arm that was around him and then 

turned to see her face right behind him. He moaned, “mm, you're cold?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She buried her head into his warm neck and then she rested her head on top of 

his as she spoke softly. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Course not.” He gulped. “Susan, there's something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Ramona's pregnant.”

She froze in silence. 

He turned to look at her curiously to see her reaction. 

She looked devastated. “Oh, um... I see.” She backed away from him and laid on her back. “I see.” 

She repeated herself, trying to fully comprehend what this meant.

“Susan,” He turned over to face her. “I told you what happened between her and me.”

“I know. I know. It's just-” She sat up in bed to turn on the lamp as she scowled at him. “You got her 

pregnant, Tommy? Seriously? How could you?”

He licked his bottom lip and avoided looking at her.

“You guys were dumb. One of you should've used protection!”

“Shhhh.” He tried to quiet her so she wouldn't wake anyone in the hotel. “Look, I know... I didn't plan 

for this, alright?” He sat up in bed, the sheets falling to his hips. “Do you think I wanted this to 

happen?”

She looked away from him, shaking her head.

“Believe me, I'm just as upset about it as you are. I don't know what's going to happen to the baby.”

She kept shaking her head. “So, what? She's going to be giving birth to your child in jail or 

something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. She'll give birth and then the authorities will have to take the baby away and put it 

up for adoption if no family member is there to legally adopt the child.”

“We can't allow her family to raise the child. There's no way we can trust them... Tommy,” she stared 

at him, worriedly, “this changes everything.”


	11. Genetic Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wants to take a drink for the first time, but Susan becomes worried when he starts acting different.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> DISCLAIMER:  
> This chapter contains use of alcohol and sexual content

The next week of being on the road was finding out more information about the human trafficking 

operations going on in the area and then giving anonymous tips to the police. Finally, Tommy and 

Susan decided to drive back home to Tommy's apartment and try to get things back to normal. They 

couldn't know for sure if they had outed every Bartenelli family operation, but they tried as best as they 

knew how. 

Susan noticed something different about Tommy. There were moments where he seemed his normal 

self... witty retorts to her statements, generally making her blush. But, then she found him more than 

usual, showing signs of depression which always showed clearly on his face. Susan felt a little 

concerned when he asked her to pull over at a liquor store while he ran in. He came out with a bottle of 

whiskey and a bottle of red wine. He told her that they would celebrate tonight once they got home for 

a job well done.

When they got to the apartment, carried in their suitcases, Tommy immediately went to the kitchen 

and got down two glass goblets. He poured them each a glass of red wine as he took a seat on the 

couch. The bottle of whiskey and the red wine sat on the coffee table. Susan came out of the bathroom 

after washing her face and freshening up. She had the thought in the back of her mind of how this 

evening of drinking, might lead to other extracurricular activities. She didn't know how Tommy's 

genetics reacted while under the influence of alcohol. She had never seen him drink before, and 

especially had never seen him drunk. She felt curious, she wondered if he would just pass out after one 

glass or be highly excitable and all over her; she secretly hoped for the latter.

She smiled contentedly as she retrieved the glass of wine that he handed to her. She eyed his glass, it 

was already almost completely gone by the time she got hers as they clunk their glasses together. 

“Cheers.” He tilted his head back and gulped down the rest.

“Tommy, you do realize you're supposed to sip your wine, not gulp it down like water, right?” She giggled.

He smiled. It was the first genuine smile she had seen from him in a long while. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I'm 

not experienced when it comes to this.”

She grinned in appreciation of his enjoyment. “No worries. I just don't want you passed out before me.”

He chuckled and paused, “Oh, yeah, 'cause that's happened before.”

She blushed, “well, with a different activity, yes, I'd say it has.” She admired his handsome 

complexion as she crossed her legs tightly.

He looked at her when she let out a soft sigh while gazing at him. “Different activity.” He spoke 

thoughtfully while he smirked. “Are you saying that I lack stamina?”

She grinned while continuing to stare at him, her heart rate starting to increase as her thoughts 

wandered, yearning for his touch. “Not specifically, no.”

“Mm.” He sighed and reached for the whiskey bottle and started pouring his glass half whiskey and 

then half wine. He took the the empty wine bottle to his lips and let the last drops of the liquid fall into 

his mouth. He licked droplets from his lips and relaxed back into the couch as he took a sip of his 

concoction. “Uh.” He groaned as he let out a loud sigh from feeling slightly warm while he undid a 

button down his shirt, revealing part of his toned chest muscles. 

She raised her eyebrows, “half and half, huh? Is that any good?” She gulped, feeling herself starting to 

get turned on and feeling the attraction towards him.

“It 'is' pretty good. You want some?”

She smiled, “sure,” she said in a quiet, feminine voice. She leaned forward, balancing her torso with 

her hand resting on his thigh as she took her time, taking a long sip from his glass. He watched her 

satisfied expression on her face as she finished her sip. “Oh. Mm, you're right. That's indeed good. Who 

would've thought whiskey and wine together would be so delicious?” She stared at him as she kept her 

hand on his leg. She tightened her crossed legs again, giving herself an erotic sensation. “I think all this 

drinking has got me a little... horny.” 

His eyebrows twitched at the word as he immediately glanced away from her.

She frowned slightly, “what's wrong?” She crept her hand up toward his groin. She looked down at his 

lap, then raised her eyes to look at him for permission to touch his body.

He glanced down uneasily and gulped, then his tongue peeked out from his mouth to lick his lips as he 

met her sultry gaze.

The corner of her mouth raised into a small smirk as she went for it. She began rubbing her hand 

inside his lap, at first lightly, and then starting to gain momentum with the intent of giving him sexual 

gratification. “Uhn.” His eyelids fluttered as his lips parted.

She brought her pink lips to his hot ear as she whispered, “tell me, darling, how does that feel?”

He growled and suddenly pushed her away by the shoulder and stood up. His abrupt end to the sexual 

encounter put her off guard as she sat there for a moment, amazed at his not going any further with it. 

She frowned while she turned to look up at him. He picked up his alcoholic concoction and started 

casually drinking again.

“Why did you- what was that all about?”

He paused from staring at his glass and looked at her. “I don't know. You tell me, Susan. What 'was' 

that all about?”

She frowned at his sarcasm. “I thought- I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“I'm not interested in foreplay right now,” he paused, “or sex.”

“But isn't 'foreplay' everything we've been doing?” She stood up to stand in front of him. “This game 

we play every moment we're in the same room...” she raised her chin smugly as she stared him up. “It's 

inevitable. It's all leading up to a steamy... throbbing... messy eruption.”

He visibly gulped as his adam's apple moved up the length of his larynx.

She turned toward the bedroom and then paused, “oh, and by the way, don't ever push me like that 

again, especially when I'm trying to do you a favor.”

~:~

The next morning came early. Susan got out of bed and started for the kitchen to put a pot of coffee 

on, but paused on her way when she saw Tommy sitting on the couch, slumped over. She immediately 

noticed a glass of a golden hued liquid in his hand as she watched his head nodding off, groggily. 

“Have you been drinking?”

He took in a shaky breath as he glanced at her. “Um-”

“Tommy!” She quickly came over and stared at him, worriedly. “What are you doing drinking at...” 

she glanced at the clock, “nine Am?”

“I've just- I've been thinking about my parents.”

She frowned. “About what exactly?”

He turned to look at her. “I still feel haunted by them. I think about what I did to them all those years 

ago.” He raised an eyebrow, “I think about it all the time.”

Her heart almost leaped out of her chest from the words as she was immediately reminded of what he 

did to his parents. 

“I'm glad I can't ever go back to Elliot estate. Truth is... I hated the damn place.”

“You did? Even though it was a beautiful place, inside and out?”

“Yes.” He stared at her. “It was just a familiar ache that kept me there. Something that you wish you 

could change, but won't... and only because you're scared of what will happen if you do.” He peered 

into her eyes in the low light. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

She nodded immediately. “Yeah, yeah. I do... like, uh... being afraid of change or something.” She 

stared at him in silence and then stated, “Tommy... I want you to know something.” She froze for a 

moment in hesitation. “ I- I love you.” She gulped with anxiety, “well... uh, do you... love me?”

He gasped and paused for a moment... “no.”

She stared at him, her upper lip starting to quiver as tears tried escaping her eyes. “W-why?”

“Look...” he tilted his head back to down another swallow of the whiskey. He turned to pat her on the 

knee condescendingly. “You're what... twenty-six years old?”

She frowned, “what does my age have to do with anything?”

He chuckled, “my point is you're young. I'm thirty-three. When you get to be my age, saying 'I love 

you' doesn't really matter anymore.”

“What are you talking about? No. That's when it matters the most.”

“Perhaps... but perhaps I just don't care or know how to love.” He watched for her reaction, almost as 

if he was trying to see if she would believe him.

“What? How could you not know 'how' to love someone? Aren't you human?”

He looked away from her, shaking his head. “I don't feel the same things other people feel. I can't... I 

just can't.”

She frowned as she listened to him intently.

“I just know how to pretend like I care. But, really...” he shook his head and chuckled, “I don't.”

She slapped him angrily. “That's just the drink talking! You don't want to admit that you love me. I 

know you do. You're just too proud to admit it to me. Stop denying yourself!”

He leaned closer to speak in low tones into her ear, grabbing a hold of her arm while he clenched his 

jaw in agitation. “Susan, I don't love you. I never have. Can't you see that?” He leaned back to look at 

her, shaking his head, he raised his voice in hopes of getting through to her. “Susan, you've fooled 

yourself into believing in a love that wasn't even there!”

Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at him. “Let go of me.” She jerked her arm out of his strong 

grasp. “And about your not feeling love... that's bull. You said earlier that you felt guilty thinking about 

what you did to your parents and that you think about it all the time.”

He shook his head and smirked. “No. I never said that... Don't you get it? I was basking in hate for 

how they treated me. I was just reminding myself how much I'm proud of what I did and how it was all 

so damn worth it.” He grimaced, taking another sip of his glass of whiskey.  
She stood up quickly, grabbed the glass from his hand, and threw it against the nearby wall, shattering 

it into shards. “I can see why you never drink, if this is how you get!”

He stared in front of him blankly for a moment then turned his head to glare at her. “You stupid 

woman.”

She gulped at his sinister tone, then she quickly retrieved the bottle of whiskey and ran into the 

kitchen.

He jumped up from the couch and hurried after her as she started unscrewing the lid and held the 

bottle, top up, over the sink. “Susan, stop!” He leaned over the island counter, arms stretched out in 

order to hold his body weight because he was about to fall over from being highly intoxicated. He 

weakly tilted his head upwards in order to see her.

She raised her chin. “You can't be drinking, Tommy. You don't handle your alcohol well. It affects 

your personality. Your tolerance level is obviously extremely low from never having built up a 

tolerance.”

He smiled, rocking his body side to side. “And what makes you the expert on drinking?”

“Well, I've had a helluva lot more experience doing it than you.”

His face suddenly became serious as he scowled at her.

“Talk to me. Why are you drinking in the first place? This isn't like you... Is this about Ramona and 

the baby?”

He fumed, tightening his lips while suppressing a sardonic laugh. “Just give me the goddamn bottle.”

“No.”

“Susan?”

“No.” She repeated more firmly this time.

He took in a sharp gasp, bewildered by her unwillingness not to budge to his will. “Argh!” He came at 

her.

Startled, she dropped the bottle in the sink, it landed with a loud clank from the glass hitting steel, the 

liquid immediately started draining out. He pushed her out of the way and grabbed the unbroken bottle 

and what was left inside of it, about one more swallow's worth. He examined it, then glared at her.

She stood there, staring at him, worried he was going to hurt her physically to retaliate.

They stared at each other for a moment as he panted from his quick sprint to salvage the bottle. His 

face slowly softened soberly as he tilted the bottle and let it drain the rest out.

She watched him, surprised, then took a hand and wrapped it around one of his shoulders in 

encouragement of giving up the last sip.

His face crinkled as he let tears come to his eyes for the first time in front of her, she pulled him 

towards her, letting him cry into her shoulder as she held onto his virile frame in an embrace. “God, I'm 

sorry. I'm so sorry.”


	12. Adolescent Tricks And Tactics For The Most Skilled Trickster And Tactician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Tommy having come down with a dreadful fever, the relationship between Tommy and a schoolmate gets revisited from the past.

Ramona peered into his eyes, he felt her dark ones searing through him. He gulped when he saw a two 

year old little boy peek behind her legs, looking up at him. He had black hair and the lightest blue eyes 

he'd ever seen. He immediately saw his father looking at him through the eyes of the child. Looking at 

him with disgust, judgment and disrespect. Tommy felt entirely uncomfortable. How could this child 

have so much detest for him at such a young and innocent age? 

“Darling,” Ramona smirked, “I want you to meet our child, Roman.”

“What? You named him 'Roman'?”

She laughed, “of course, darling. I was the only one here for him. I was here making a home for us 

while you were out barhopping, picking up strangers and prostitutes while drinking your pathetic 

existence away.”

Tommy's stomach dropped. “W-what?”

“Daddy?” The little boy questioned his father. “Why do you love sin more than me?”

He immediately felt scared of the child and the strong spiritual presence of his father using him as a 

mouth-piece. He took a step back, shaking his head. “What's wrong with the child? I've never heard a 

toddler say such things.”

She giggled. “It is not Roman's fault he has an alcoholic father, who is no father to him. Darling, what 

is wrong with 'you'?”

He shook his head in denial. “Nothing. Nothing's wrong. 'I'm' not the one with the problem, Ramona. 

You are.” He looked toward the child. “And that child. He's a disgrace, frankly. I don't want him.”

She gasped. “How could you reject your own child, darling?” The boy started crying and grabbed a 

hold of his mom's thigh tightly. 

“It's Easy. People do it all the time.”

“Darling, you are a lot more like your father than you realize.”

“What? What do you know about my father?” He gulped, “you know nothing. He died when I was 

ten.”

“Darling, I know everything. Everything, darling.”

“N-no. No more 'darling'. Stop calling me that!” He began shaking his head over and over...

 

“Argh!” He jerked himself awake from the nightmare. He panted, realizing it was just a dream and 

feeling a great sense of relief because of the fact.

Susan ran into the bedroom in a frenzy. “Are you all right?” She came up to the side of the bed, 

feeling his sweaty, warm forehead as he turned his head to the side of the pillow. She sat down on the 

side of the bed. “Gosh, you're running a fever.”

“W-what?” He managed to get out from his parched lips and then he tried to swallow noticing his dry 

throat. “Meh.”

She noticed his discomfort as she gasped. “Oh, I'll go get you some water.” She disappeared out of the 

room, then a moment later, returned to hand him his tall glass of water.

He lifted up his head and downed the glass halfway. “Ugh, I don't know what came over me. I just 

woke up feeling so weak.”

“Tommy, you used to be a doctor. Do you have any idea of what you might have, giving your 

symptoms?”

He kept his eyes closed as he sighed. “I- I don't know. Fevers can stem from any multitude of 

illnesses and diseases.” He creased his forehead as he began coughing into his arm. He relaxed again as 

he rested his head back on the pillow. “I don't want to get you sick... I guess it's good we didn't get it on 

last night, huh?”

She chuckled at him saying it in such a humorously dry way. “Shut up.” She shook her head with 

amusement.

~:~

Twelve-year-old Tommy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his mom stood behind him, parting his 

damp auburn hair to the side with a small comb. “Mother,” he squirmed, “for God's sake, I'm old 

enough to part my own hair.”

“Oh, stop it. Let your mother help you... there.” Mrs. Elliot admired her son's hairdo with a bright 

smile. “You look handsome and distinguished as ever, Tommy. You almost resemble young Bruce 

Wayne”

He pursed his lips as he met his mother's gaze through the mirror. “Distinguished.” He tried to change 

the subject off of Bruce, as he resented being compared to the boy. “Why must I look distinguished 

today, Mother? Am I going into town?”

“Not exactly. Is there something wrong with a mother wanting her son to be the most handsome lad in 

Gotham? Now...” she made her son face her, who was about her height already from his recent growth 

spurt. “Kiss your mother and say 'thank you'.

“Thanks.” He leaned in to give his mother a smooch on her cheek.

“Ah, ah, ah! Say 'Thank you, Mother.'”

He sighed, “thank you, Mother.” 

At that moment, the Elliot manor doorbell rang. “Oh, that reminds me... your schoolmate, Lana, is 

stopping by to see you.”

“What?” 

“Her mother called and asked if it was alright. I said yes.”

“Mother, do I have to? I'm not interested in her.”

“We're not interested, are we? Well, aren't we mature?”

“Mom, I mean, Mother, why?” The boy pouted.

“You go out to the foyer and make yourself friendly.... After all, I didn't get you looking so handsome 

for nothing.”

“So that's what this was all about.” He mumbled. “I thought we were going into town.”

“Not today. Now, don't be rude... and go greet your guest. I'll go make sure Liza is getting dinner 

started.”

Tommy let out an exaggerated sigh as he drug his feet, left the bathroom and met the girl who had 

already been let in by the butler and was waiting politely and quietly in the foyer.

She was a pretty girl with brown, large curls draped across her shoulders and brown eyes that beamed 

with happy expression. “Hello, Tommy. It's great to see you. I just wanted to stop by and say hello.” 

She had a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap in her hand. “Oh, and to give you these.” She 

handed him the plate. “I made them myself. They're oatmeal raisin.”

He raised an eyebrow and creased his young forehead as he looked at the plate in his hands. “Ewe, I 

hate oatmeal raisin.”

The girl gasped, “oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll just have our personal cook bring these into the kitchen. Oh, Liza!”

In an instant, a dark complected woman wearing a white apron and black dress appeared. 

“Be a doll and take these into the kitchen, will you?”

The cook tightened her lips, obviously not liking the way the twelve-year-old bossed her around as she 

nodded. “Yes, Master Thomas.”

The adolescent boy smirked smugly. “So,” he turned toward the girl. “Lana, was it?”

The girl looked surprised that he wasn't sure of her name. “Yes, don't you remember?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I remember a girl at the lunch table who giggles to her friends for fifteen minutes, 

and then the other fifteen she spends staring at me.”

She gasped in embarrassment. “You mean, you noticed me doing that?”

“Yes. I also noticed you have a smokin' friend who sits next to you in first period. Now, she's a babe.” 

He smirked.

She frowned. “Oh, yeah? Her? That's my best friend Carla.”

“Now, she's someone I would love to have bake cookies for me... Hey, Let's go take a seat in the 

parlor, shall we?”

“You have a parlor?” She asked interested, as she scanned the tall ceilings and the plentiful empty 

space everywhere her eyes graced.

“Two, actually.”

They both took their seats on the couch together inside the parlor. The television was left on a local 

news station with the volume set low. The adolescents stared at the screen for a passing moment, 

awkwardly in silence.

She turned to look at him. “Tommy, if you don't mind me asking... what ever happened to your dad?”

He immediately looked at her with a straight face. “He died in a car accident two years ago.”

She gasped, “oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know.”

“Pfft, don't worry about it. I'm actually surprised you didn't... I thought everyone in Gotham knew 

about the incident. It was quite the talk around town for a while, you know, my father being the richest 

man in town, next to the Waynes, unfortunately.”

“Oh.” 

They sat there gracelessly for a few passing moments, staring at the television. 

She looked at him, shyly. “Have you ever kissed anyone before, Tommy?”

He raised his young eyebrow while he met her curious gaze. “Wouldn't you like to know?” He gulped 

in fear of her realizing the truth that he hadn't. “Are you kidding? Why would you ask a person such a 

thing?”

Lana looked down, docilely. “Because, I was wondering if... if I kissed you... if you would know what  
to do.”

He quickly met her eye contact. 

Her eyes darted away with insecurity.

He smiled with false authority. “Babe, I'm as experienced as you can get, trust me.” He leaned in 

suddenly and kissed her, holding it for a couple seconds. He leaned back to look at her, curiously.

She bit her bottom lip excitedly and then moved in again, grasping him by the back of his head in 

order to pull him towards her.

He immediately felt worried that she was going to mess up his perfectly parted and combed hair and 

ruin it. He was caught off guard when her lips started mouthing against his and she managed to slip her 

tongue inside his mouth.

“Ugh,” he pulled back and frowned at her, “where'd you learn that? It's weird feeling.”

She blushed and giggled, “where you think? T.V.”

“You learned all that from watching television?”

“Mm, hm.” She pulled a dark curl from out of her face shyly as she placed her hand on his knee and 

held his stare.

He swallowed and continued to hold her stare as he started to feel his senses becoming awakened.

“Tommy?... Lana?”

“Ugh, get away from me, Lana!” He pushed the girl by the shoulder as he stood up to face his mother 

ashamedly. “Mother, can you please escort this 'girl' to the door.”

“Thomas Roger Elliot! That's awfully rude.” Mrs. Elliot scolded, then looked at the girl who was 

staring into space with a humiliated expression. “Apologize right now!”

He didn't want to look at the girl as he mumbled, “sorry.”

“Look at her and speak with your mouth open properly, please, young man.”

He turned to look at Lana and raised his chin. “I apologize, Lana.”

The girl stood up to look him over as she pursed her lips. “It was nothing. I'll be going.”

Mrs. Elliot's eyes widened as she gestured for him to show her to the door. He rolled his eyes and then 

walked with her to the door.

The youngsters stood in the entry hall alone for a moment. She smirked, “I want to let you know 

something, Tommy...”

He rolled his eyes, pretending not to be interested while he managed to look at her, “what's that?”

“This whole thing... was just some big dare.”

A pit formed in his stomach, “what?”

“Me, kissing you.” She giggled, “my girlfriends and I singled you out to be the most experienced 

kisser, so out of curiosity, they had me come over to find out... that is... find out that you've actually 

totally have never kissed a girl before!” She laughed.

He pursed his lips. “And the joy you get out of this is what again?”

She smiled, nudging his shoulder. “Knowing that you have great potential,” she giggled. “You seem 

like you're one of those eighth grader boys whom are experienced with girls, but you're totally not. You 

really don't know anything about girls, do you?”

He frowned at her, insulted.

“Tell me, did you like it? What we did today... it's called making out, you know? And I could tell that 

you've never done it before. I had no idea how innocent you were until now.” She giggled mockingly.

“Get out!” He went to open the door as he stuck his chin in the air, trying to put on a show and not reveal his emotions. 

She smirked while she went to the door, pausing halfway to look at him. “See you at school tomorrow, 

Tommy.”

He rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind her angrily.

~:~

There were countless times at school that Tommy would see Lana again. He knew full well that she 

and her friends were continuously gossiping about him and taking pleasure in seeing him get worked 

up by their virgin jokes. He then started to show attention to Lana's best friend Carla. The two 

eventually began to flirt openly in front of Lana and her other friends. Tommy wasn't as interested in 

Carla as he led the poor girl, along with everyone else, to believe. He simply just wanted to make Lana 

jealous... so he used Carla, after all, she seemed open to it anyway, as it turned out, she had a huge 

crush on him all along.

 

For all of Tommy's high school years, every time he would pass Lana down the hallway, he would 

look at her and say, “Hey, Lana...” and then pucker his lips in order to make kissing noises aimed at 

her; consciously reminding her of the fact that she came to his house to make out with him from the 

result of an infantile dare by her friends.

The first time he did it, she looked appalled and embarrassed as she looked to her girlfriends and 

whispered a phrase or two concerning him. But, as the years went on, she got used to his immature 

routine every school day and started sticking her tongue out at him in response; perhaps, consciously 

reminding him of the fact that she got to stick her tongue inside his unsuspecting mouth.

The last time Tommy did the kissing face to Lana, was in their senior year of high school. It happened 

while he passed her in the school hall, books folded in his arms, while he headed to his locker right 

after a class had been let out. He immediately caught her eye with his green eyes as he leaned forward 

to smooch and smack his lips in her face.

She raised an eyebrow, and before he could continue on his way, she finally had had enough. She 

suddenly pushed him against a locker with deep-seeded aggression; she was a little bit of a tomboy 

after all.

He grinned, not the least bit disturbed by her sudden outburst as he looked at her from underneath his 

dark brown eyelashes. “Ouch.”

She squeezed onto his arms. “When is this going to stop, Tommy Elliot? We've been doing this same 

'immature' routine for the past six years. Haven't you had enough already?”

He licked his bottom lip, then bit it mischievously. “There's nothing I enjoy more than to watch your 

face as I rub in what you did to me.”

“Ugh, you're pathetic. It was just some dumb dare a million years ago. You already dated my bestest 

friend for a year-”

“Ooh, your 'bestest'?” He interrupted, wearing a condescending grin on his face. “How cute.”

She scowled at him. “Shut up. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, you broke her heart into a million 

pieces by the way!” She poked her finger in the center of his chest as he smiled, seemingly enjoying the 

tension-filled hostility towards him. “How much more rubbing in do you need to accomplish until 

you're satisfied?”

“Mm.” He looked her up and down, thoughtfully. “Ooh, ooh! I know about this one distinct kind of 

rubbing...” he pouted his lips seriously, “the in and out kind... um, humping, if you catch my drift. I 

think that would most definitely do the trick, don't you think?”

Lana's eyes widened as she took a step back from him, “are you suggesting what I think you're  
suggesting? Is this about those old virgin jokes I used to tease you about?”

He chuckled, “I don't know. What do you think? You're a smart girl, Lana. Don't be stupid.” He stood 

up straight, smoothing his black t-shirt while he eyed her sexually. “After school, behind the building?”

She paused as she contemplated his extraordinary offer, leaving her gulping as she watched his gaze, 

reflecting his randy mood. “Yeah, right. Is this a prank?”

He laughed, “I guess you'll just have to come if you wanna find out... now, won't you?”  
He snapped his teeth to bite the air in front of her face, causing her to flinch. He bumped her shoulder 

with his arm as he passed and continued down the hall. 

~:~

After all their classes were over, Lana came to find him behind the school building. He was there 

alone, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the brick wall.

“So... no 'hey Lana' or kissing noises this time?” She asked as she came toward him.

He puffed out a whiff of smoke, then dropped the cigarette to the ground, grinding it into ashes with 

the heel of his boot. “You came?” He flashed his dark auburn eyebrows. “Doesn't surprise me in the 

least.” He kicked off the brick wall with his foot to get to his feet and meet her halfway.

She hoped he couldn't see the sexual curiosity and desperation in her eyes as she kept watch on him. 

“Well, yes, obviously. I wanted to see if you were serious about meeting me here.”

He sighed loudly. “As much as I'd like for us to make out hard, like animals... then, when you're 

aching for me to put you out of your misery, I'll abruptly end it and leave you here behind the school 

building, panting like a dog in heat...”

She gulped from the alluring imagery of his body pinning her against the brick wall while making out 

vigorously.

He paused to stare at her as he broke into a grin. “Nah. It was only a joke anyway.” He frowned, 

concernedly. “You didn't really think I was interested in you, did you?”

Her heart sank with shame. Was he serious? All of this was just a joke?

He laughed, noticing her expression. “See you tomorrow, Lana.”


	13. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy meets a stunning woman while in town and insists on taking her out to dinner.

What took him by surprise, was the most beautiful, exotic creature he had ever seen in his entire existence. And let me tell you, he had seen some beautiful women in his time, but no one ever made him stop in his tracks like _she_ did. He squinted his eyes as he thought to himself. _'Wow... she looks too beautiful to be true, but also, she looks surprisingly and strangely familiar.'..._

“Excuse me?” The woman, about in her early-thirties, questioned as she noticed him staring at her.

“Do I know you by any chance? You look strangely familiar.”

“I- I don't believe so. But, aren't you Bruce Wayne?”

“Uh, yes.” He smiled brightly, showing most of his teeth, very unlike his usual smile. “Are you one of the many girls I used to date?” He teased.

She stuck her chin in the air, a little annoyed with his joke. “Um, no. I'm afraid not.” She turned to pass him.

He quickly grabbed her by the elbow to turn her back around in order to face him. “Please... let me take you out to dinner. We can get to know each other.”

“And... just why would I want to go on a date with a perfect stranger? There's better places to meet people than at the supermarket.”

“Sure, there's better places, but, what's wrong with having dinner? You ' _do'_ get hungry like a normal person, right?”

“Ugh, you think you're pretty funny, don't you?”

 

~:~

 

They sat at a table for two in the dimly lit, romantic, five-star Italian restaurant downtown that night.

“You know, I haven't been on a date in years.” She said after finishing her first glass of red wine, which made her more malleable and open to the concept of having a date with him.

He chuckled, “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, really. It's true. My last boyfriend...” she started pouring her wine glass full again. “We ended our relationship two years ago. He-” she took a gulp of her red wine before continuing, “he cheated on me with my sister.”

He flashed his dark eyebrows, “ouch.”

“So, you can understand... why I may be a little weary of dating again and can be-”

“A tough nut to crack?” He raised his glass of water to take a sip.

“Well, yes.” She smiled as she rested her slightly curled fingers on the table next to her wine glass.

He suddenly brought his hand from under the table which had been resting on his lap, and placed it on top of her hand.

She quickly looked at his hand and then his face curiously.

“Tell me... what is your real name? You just seem so familiar.” He began rubbing his fingers up and down the back of her hand, hoping to wheedle the information out of her as he held her gaze.

“Ah, ah, ah.” She slipped her hand away from his. “I'm not telling you until we get through with this date, then I'll see if I want you knowing who I really am.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Fair enough.”

“So,” she noticed his empty, dry wine glass beside his plate. “Aren't you going to have any wine? It's very good.”

He paused, looking down at his vacant goblet. He didn't want to mention how the last time he got drunk, he couldn't stop and became mean, depressed and angry. He didn't want to go there again, not when he knew better. “I-” he chuckled, trying to make the atmosphere between them more light-hearted to camouflage a hard and dark subject for him. “Truthfully, I don't handle my alcohol well.”

“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows with surprise at his trusting her with such intimate information. “That's alright. I'm glad you let me know... So, uh, if you don't mind my asking, did you used to be an alcoholic?”

“Uh... I never really let myself drink long enough to find out. But I know in my gut that I have outstanding potential to be.” He gulped as he took another gulp of his cool water.

She pursed her lips into a smile. “Maybe it's one of those first date subjects that need to be faced head on.”

“Yeah.” He traced a finger along the stem of his glass.

“Not even one glass?” She provoked him with an eerie raise of an eyebrow.

He stared at her with temptation lurking in the back of his head. “No.” He shook his head, trying to escape her alluring enchantment. “If I did...” he gulped, glancing down at his empty glass, “I don't think you understand how it works. I wouldn't be able to stop.”

She flashed her eyebrows as she leaned back in her chair. “Alright then.” She continued to stare at him, waiting for him to meet her eye contact... when he finally did, she said, “I wonder what other secrets you own that you haven't yet shared with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Just thinking aloud.” She smirked.

The waiter came to their table at that moment with their steaming plates of food on a cart. The man spoke with a rich Italian accent. “For the lady, the _Zuppa di cozze alla Tarantina...”_ He placed the steaming plate in front of her. “Mussels steamed with _peperoncino_ , garlic, tomatoes, and white wine.”

“Ooh.” She smiled at the waiter. “Thank you.”

“And for the gentleman, _risotto allo zafferano con petto d'anatra._ ” He placed the plate in front of Tommy. “Saffron seasoned rice with duck breast.” The waiter clasped his hands together. “Anything else I can do for you two?”

“No. I believe-”

She interrupted, “if you wait around long enough for me to finish off this second glass of wine, I might be drunk enough to order out your entire dessert selection... after I finish my meal, of course.”

The waiter chuckled, “oh, Miss. You are too funny... Enjoy your meal.” With that, he left their table, pushing the cart away.

She dug her fork inside a mussel on her plate, scooping out the creature onto her fork, then bringing it to her mouth. “So, where were we?”

Tommy stirred his  _risotto_ with his fork, thoughtfully, then looked at her. “Secrets.” He took a bite, swallowed, then leaned towards her, slightly over the table. “What have you?”

“What have I what?”

“Secrets.”

She chuckled, “oh, right. You wanted to know what my name was. You tell me yours first.”

“What?” He chuckled, “I already did. I'm Bruce Wayne. Remember, honey?”

She raised a dark eyebrow. “No reason to be a dick. I was just clarifying.”

He leaned back in his chair as he took up his glass of water. He shook his head while checking out a pretty woman who was just walking past their table. “Is this how you spend all of your dates...” he wondered, “interrogating them?”

“Is this how you spend all of ' _your_ ' dates... checking out other women?”

He immediately looked at her seriously, “what?”

“Just now... I saw you. You were totally checking out that girl.”

He chuckled. “What? No. I wasn't.”

“Uh, yes, you were.” She raised her eyebrows.

He licked his bottom lip while looking down at the table. “Okay, maybe I was... But, it's a force of habit. Honestly I didn't even realize I was doing it.”

“It's okay. You can forget about it. It doesn't really matter.” She grabbed her wine glass and smirked, taking down another swallow. “Truthfully, I'm too buzzed to really care,” she giggled.

 

 

After the meal was finished and the date was coming to a close, the waiter came to drop off the tab. Tommy picked up the tab, read over it and then reached inside his back pocket for his wallet. 

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up, eyes wide with confusion. “I'm picking up the tab.”

“No. You don't have to do that. I have a pretty damn good paying career. I can manage paying for my half.”

“No. really, it's not a problem.”

“I insist. Feminist or not, I'd feel much better if I just paid for my own.”

“Alright, if you insist. Why not.” He handed her the tab for her to look over her cost while he smiled at her.

“Whoa. Eighty dollars for one meal! I didn't even have dessert!”

“You insisted on ordering the restaurant's top wine.”

She pouted her lips, then looked at him. “I guess I wasn't paying much attention to the cost of anything.”

“Fair is fair, right?”

She frowned at him.

He grinned, “I'm kidding... Here, how about this.” He took the slip of paper from her, “I'll pay for the bottle of wine.”

“What? No. You couldn't possibly-”

“It's alright. I'll just pretend that I ordered it and drank the entire bottle.” He said, glancing at the empty wine bottle in the middle of the table, he grinned at her again.

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

He chuckled, “would you believe me if I told you I was a nice guy?”

She squinted her brown eyes. “No... I bet you're expecting a goodnight kiss or something before the night's over, aren't you?”

He raised his hands halfway as if surrendering. “Awe, you got me. I was unreservedly expecting a little goodnight peck on the cheek at least,” he grinned as he stared at her, “or perhaps, a massive make out session.”

“Hmm.” She hummed thoughtfully as her surroundings around her, spun around from her drunken state. “I bet you're really good at making out. You just really _'radicate'_ the perfect energy for that kind of stuff.”

“Don't you mean ' _radiate_ '?”

“Yeah, yeah. Radiate. That's what I said.”

He laughed, “oh, god, you're so damn drunk right now.”

 

 

After the tab was paid, he stood up and then came to her side to lend a helping hand in getting her out of her chair.

She grabbed his hand and used all of the strength she could muster to get to her feet in her high-heels. “Oh, gosh. Ugh.”

“Honey, you're completely wasted. I'm getting you home.”

“Well, I'm sober enough to kick your ass if you try to take advantage of me in any way!”

“Of course you are.” He glanced around at the other customers in the five-star restaurant, who seemed very distressed by what she just said and projected a few hostile glares toward him.

All of a sudden, she collapsed practically to the strength of his shoulder to hold her balance. He was successful at keeping her mostly upright as they started for the door.

The waiter who served their table was just passing by and asked, “Sir, do you need help with the lady?”

He smiled, “it would be great if you could call a cab. Thanks.”

 

The two waited outside the restaurant for the cab, once it came, they both got in and buckled up.

“Where to?” The driver asked with his thick Mexican accent.

“Uh, hold on a second. Let me see.” He looked to his date, who was falling asleep. “Where do you live? I'm trying to get you home.”

“I used to like walking to the outdoor cinema as a kid from my house.”

He shook his head, glancing at the cabdriver through the rear view mirror.

The driver sighed dramatically as he rubbed his face with impatience.

Tommy grabbed her by both sides of her face. “Wake up. Tell me where you live so this cab can take you home.”

“Huh?” She looked completely out of it. “Who are you again? I thought that was a funny dinner.” She giggled.

Tommy shook his head, rolling his eyes. He then noticed her handbag in her lap. He looked at her, then grabbed the handbag, opened it and dug through it in search for any personal information. He finally came up with a calling card. He read on it, _'Lana Sands. 2025 Maiden Ln, New York City, 10005'..._ He frowned for a few seconds in thought until he realized... _'Lana, from high school? Oh my god! No wonder she looks so familiar.'_ He glanced up to look at the cabdriver through the rear view mirror. “Driver, I have an address.”

 

~:~

 

After about a ten minute drive, the taxi cab finally found her tiny condominium right on the outskirts of the city. Tommy grabbed a hold of her arm, shaking her lightly awake.

She gasped loudly, “huh?”

“You're home. Here let me walk you to the door.” He got out of the car, and helped her out.

“Ahem!” The driver coughed, “that'll be _veinte dolares_.”

Tommy frowned, “that's twenty dollars, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, twenty.”

He pulled out his wallet, grabbing a twenty and then paused before handing it to the man. “Wait, I'll pay you double if you wait five minutes and take me home as well.”

The driver sighed, “fine, fine. Hurry up, will you, hombre!”

 

Tommy shut the cab door and helped her to her door.

She sighed, “oh, I feel kind of sick.”

He tightened his lips. “At least you're coming out of it finally.”

They stood on the front porch together, she placed a hand on his chest as she stared at his chest, then her eyes moved up to his lips. “Thanks for getting me home safely.”

“Oh, of course.”

Their faces were in close proximity. He scanned her face quickly and then let his eyes rest on her lips. “Has anyone ever told you how devastatingly beautiful you are?”

Her lips parted as if she was about to let him kiss her. “Only when they're trying to get in my pants.” She abruptly pushed him away with her hand and out of her personal space, then she turned to open the front door. “Nice try.” She stepped inside the condo and then turned to look at him.

He stood there in silence.

“You weren't expecting me to invite you in, were you?” She said rudely as she raised her eyebrows.

“Wait!”

She paused, shutting the door halfway, “what?”

“Aren't you going to at least tell me your name?” He wanted her to think that he didn't know her name yet.

She sighed, “Lana Sands.”

“Wait... Lana Sands?”

She frowned, “yes? Do you remember me?”

“Well, of course. I'm Bruce Wayne. We did, after all, go to Gotham high, didn't we?”

“Oh. Yes. I suppose we did. I guess you just kind of kept to yourself so much, I hardly remember seeing you at school... I almost forgot you went to Gotham high too.”

He smiled, “heh.... yes, yes I did.” He paused to stare at while releasing a sigh.

She met his stare with a serious expression. “Well, it's- it's late. Talk to you some other time... maybe.” She stepped back further inside the door as she was about to close it behind her.

“Wait. Do you think we could bump into each other once again some time?”

She pouted her lips, “perhaps.” She slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Tommy's face immediately shifted into a thoughtful, serious one, as he recovered from the cold aftermath of a door being slammed in his face as the fact sunk in. “Lana?” He puffed out a whiff of air, “wow.” He shook his head as he tried to figure out the cold woman's strange behavior.

 

~:~

 

Tommy arrived home to his apartment by eleven-thirty and went to collapse onto the couch. He started loosening his tie and then a couple buttons on his shirt.

Susan came out of the bedroom, wide awake and with an open book in her hand as she took a seat on the armrest of the couch. “Bad date, huh?” She tried not to sound too curious as she removed her reading glasses.

He glanced at her, then rolled his eyes to the side as he sighed. “Let's just say, that I think I've eaten enough risotto to last me a life-time.”

“What?” she chuckled, “the restaurant was that bad?”

“No. The restaurant was fine. It's the company tonight that is to be in question.”

“Oh.” She gulped. “What'd she do?”

He paused, “she's someone I went to high school with. Her name's Lana.”

“Oh. Wow. Small world, huh?”

“She doesn't know it's me, of course. But I do... and it's killing me.”

“Why? You guys used to date or something?”

“What? No. No, never. We just-” he paused in thought, “we had an odd relationship. But, now she's-”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “You like her, don't you?”

“What? No. Why would you say that?”

She pouted her lips and shrugged. “Just guessing. I mean, you did ask her out on a date.”

“Sure, there's attraction. But, Susan, do me a favor and stop guessing.” He stood up, placing a hand on her knee as he passed her, she looked up to watch him leave and go into the bedroom.

She sighed loudly. In a way, she looked forward to meeting this... Lana. She already felt slightly envious of her. Apparently, the woman could frustrate and rouse emotions in Tommy... she must be something special. She wondered what their high school years together were like? Were they boyfriend and girlfriend and he's just omitting the fact? She sat there in curiosity. She would find out, and hopefully make this 'Lana person' go away for good, before the ' _femme fatale'_ stirred anymore of his emotions.

 


	14. Indecency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journalist stops by to conduct an intriguing interview with Tommy, but how will things go when she catches him in a towel?

Tommy had just gotten out of a steamy, hot shower when he heard his doorbell go off. He hastily grabbed his white bath towel, ran it over his dark hair, face and torso, before tucking it in below his hip bones. He headed out of the bathroom to see who his visitor was on this invigorating spring morning. He peeped through the peephole for a second to see Lana Sands standing outside with her large navy blue purse on her shoulder and a black notebook inside the crook of her arm.

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath in as he opened the door partway, only revealing his bare torso as he peeked from behind the door. “Good morning.”

She gasped, eyes wide as she noticed his indecency. “Oh, um, have I come at a bad time?”

“Bad time? Why do you say that?”

“You're n-naked.”

“Naked?” He opened the door the rest of the way, revealing his towel worn lowly around his hips.

“Oh, good. You're wearing a towel... that makes me feel so much better.” She said sarcastically.

He smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your lovely face this morning?”

“I was hoping to-”

“Please, stop hoping, and just come on in. What can I do for you, beautiful?” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter.

“Uh, thanks.” She scanned the neatly kept apartment, “you live here with some girl, correct?”

“Oh, yeah, Susan. She moved in not that long ago. She's young, innocent and lost her job recently. And between you and me,” he softened his voice to a whisper while he crinkled his nose like he smelled something bad, “she's overstayed her welcome.” He turned and led her inside the kitchen. “Truth is, I haven't had the heart to kick her out just yet.”

“So, you're roommates, then? A man and a woman? I guess it's not unheard of.”

“She's like a sister.”

“Really? So, where is she now?”

“She left about an hour ago to go window shopping,” he grinned, “or whatever it is that women do with their free time. Would you like some coffee?” He asked, taking down two mugs from the cupboard above the coffee maker.

“No, thanks. I just came to-”

He turned around and started toward her until he was standing directly in front of her view.

“I... wanted to see if-” She couldn't help herself from checking out his toned arms, chest and abdomen. Her heart then skipped a beat when she saw enough of his pelvic arch to make her blush.

“Yes?” The look in his eyes showed that he knew exactly how he was making her feel as he grinned with pleasure. “Eyes up here, honey.” He pointed an index finger to his eyes.

She gulped with discomposure. “I- I-”

“You women, honestly. So predictable.” He shook his head as he turned away from her.

“Excuse me?”

“If I present myself in the least bit of a suggestive manner, you lose your minds.” He smirked, “usually with some material items as well.” He started preparing the coffee maker.

“Oh, quit flattering yourself. I'm sure not every woman loses her panties at the sight of you half-naked.”

“Oh, honey, you have much to learn about me. I'd be happy to teach you if you'd let me.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, thanks. I didn't exactly come here to learn everything there is to know about the male body.”

He laughed softly, “god, you're cute.” He finished scooping the coffee grounds into the brewer's basket.

“Anyways, I'm not sure if you know this, but, I'm a journalist.”

“No. I did not know that.” He tapped the 'on' button and turned around to lean against the counter. “Nice.” He grinned while nodding his head.

“So, I was hoping I could get a tiny interview with you, regarding someone you know.”

“Who is this... someone?”

“Thomas Roger Elliot. Better known as Tommy Elliot.”

He paused with an expression of shock at her mentioning the name.

“What? You look as if you've seen a ghost.”

He glanced behind him at the coffee maker, piping a few puffs of steam through the lid. “Are you sure there isn't some other way I can help you out this morning?” He flashed his dark eyebrows. “Not just coffee. I mean in other ways. I'm pretty amazing.”

With a raise of an eyebrow, she cocked her head. “Pretty amazing at what?”

He grinned, “oh, you know.”

“No. I don't. Explain it to me.”

He chuckled as he turned his body away from her, looking down as he was doing something with his towel.

She watched him, anxious as to what he was going to do. When he turned around and asked, “Then what?” She felt a wave of relief, knowing he wasn't planning on dropping his towel, he was only refastening it around him. For a second there, she feared he was one of those guys who would willingly disclose themselves naked to a girl if it meant the chance of getting her into bed.

“Huh? Then what- what?”

“After the interview?”

“Oh. Um, then, I can finish writing my article and turn it in bright and early on Friday morning.”

“No. I mean, do I get to take you out on a second date?”

She giggled. “Heh. A second date? Don't you think you've kind of ruined that now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I think I've seen enough of you to satisfy me for a lifetime. I mean, come on... I've already seen you practically naked now.”

“Oh, just wait. There's so much more of me to experience. I promise you.”

She shook her head. “Would you, for once, stop thinking about sex and trying to embarrass me and give me a 'yes' or 'no' answer concerning the interview?”

“Who's thinking about sex?”

“You are! Don't tell me it's not what you were subtly suggesting practically this entire conversation.”

He stared at her and smirked, “you said it first, not me.” His face turned serious as his breathing then started to quicken, his bare chest visibly raising up and down in sync.

She looked down at his chest. “Why are you huffing and puffing now?”

“Trying not to think about sex.”

She bit her bottom lip. “And by the looks of it, you're failing.” She walked forward to flirtatiously poke a finger in the center of his chest.

“Mmmm.” He moaned dramatically as he rubbed his hands over his face with frustration. “Oh my god, you drive me crazy!”

She blushed from his outspoken feelings for her as she glanced shyly away from him.

“You know... another thing about you women...” he started coming towards her again. “You're always in denial of what turns you on, and always trying your best to suppress it.” He made her back up against the nearest counter as he locked her in by placing his arms on each side of her. “Me? I love to let women know... it always helps get her juices going,” he lowered his voice as he watched her face in close proximity to his, “if you know what I mean.”

She glanced down at his revealing body. “Oh, believe me. No one will ever mistaken you for not being turned on.”

He followed her gaze, then chuckled. “Oh, god. Mm, the curse of a man's body...” he bit his lower lip, “I'm without control.”

“Mm, hmm. I can see that.” She sneakily slid a couple fingers inside his towel where it was tucked. Before it fell completely off of him, he caught it with a low growl and quickly fastened it into place again.

“Quick reflexes. I wonder what else you're good at.” She smirked as she slipped behind him. She pushed him against the counter, placing a hand in the small of his back and the other around a tricep, she pressed her body against the back of him. “Tell me, how does it feel to be the vulnerable one now?”

He closed his eyes and licked his bottom lip in silence. Once her hands ceased him, he slowly turned around, raised his chin to look at her from underneath his dark lashes. “It feels good, actually.”

She shook her head as she bit her bottom lip. “Maybe you should go take another shower... a cold one this time. And I'll wait for that interview in the living room.”

“Yeah... right.” He shivered from the chills that shot up his spine as he gave her one last libidinous glance. “Oh, Lana.” He went to his bedroom and went inside.

 

~:~

 

She was sitting on the couch, legs crossed in her gray, tight, high-waist skirt as she rested her notebook in her lap and held onto a hot cup of black coffee inside her palm.

He came out, his hair still damp and parted. He was wearing tan khaki pants, a dark brown belt and a white button up shirt.

“Wow. You clean up nicely. So much better than the towel look.” She winked.

He took a seat beside her, his body turned toward her as he sighed. “And you're a sight for damn sore eyes.”

She took in a pleasurable inhale, wanting to soak up his flirting until she was brimming with content. “It sure took you long enough getting dressed, though. I thought only women took forever getting ready.” She raised an eyebrow, “are you sure primping was the only thing you were doing in your bedroom alone that entire time?”

A grin sprang to his lips as he immediately understood her meaning. “Oh, you naughty girl.”

Her cheeks flushed as she avoided eye contact from the embarrassment of what she just accused him of. “Um...” she opened up her notebook to a clean page while she held her pencil in her right hand. “Okay. Let's talk Tommy Elliot.”

He glanced away from her. “Ugh, god, where's the alcohol when you need it?”

She giggled, “that bad, huh?”

“Well...” he paused, rubbing his hands on his knees, apprehensively. “Tommy Elliot and I were friends since childhood. We met at school. He and I were the top students in our class so, we sort of had a lot in common. Not to mention, we both came from wealthy families, and fathers who were doctors.”

“Okay.” She scribbled away in her notebook for a moment.

He leaned forward and rested the side of his face in his palm as he gazed at her, releasing a longing sigh.

She looked up from the page. “What?”

“N-nothing.”

She blushed as she looked back down at her notebook again and tapped a few beats with her pencil, bemusedly. “Um, let's see-”

He then opened up his knees, stretched out an arm across the back of the couch, and rested his hand close to her shoulder. He continued to stare at her as he hummed thoughtfully.

She looked at him, trying to restrict the desire that crept into her awareness of straddling his open lap. “Well, um, I'm sorry... you're just kind of distracting me.”

“I am?”

She gulped, glancing away from him. “I lost the question I was going to ask. Uh-”

“Why? What are you thinking about?” He gave her a knowing look.

“Uh, nothing.” Her cheeks immediately flushed. “Just give me a second to gather my thoughts.”

He smiled. “Would it help if you didn't look at me?”

She immediately blushed, shaking her head. “Shut up.” She giggled as she flirtatiously touched his knee. “Yes, I think it probably would.”

He let out a genuine laugh as he admired her complexion.

 

“Wow.”

Lana and Tommy both immediately looked up to see Susan standing there in the corridor with her purse on her shoulder.

“It's been a long time since I've heard you laugh like that. I haven't been able to get you to laugh in a long time.”

There was a long, awkward silence that sobered the room. Making everyone's vibes turn immediately non-comedic.

Tommy looked at the ground, and then back up at Susan. “Susan,” he stood up, “this is an old schoolmate, Lana Sands... Lana, this is Susan Garfield.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Lana stood up, extending her hand out. “I've heard a lot about you.”

Susan looked hesitant for a moment, but then shook the woman's hand. “Nice meeting you too, but, I've heard absolutely nothing about _you_... Besides the fact that fifteen years ago or so, you guys went to Gotham high together.”

“Oh, well... we've only just went on one little... uh...” Lana took her seat again, “ _outing_ together a few days ago.”

“ ' _Outing?_ '” he questioned playfully, taking his seat next her again, “stop trying to downplay what it was. I believe it's called a hot date.”

She smiled, “okay, I guess, technically, it was.”

“By the way, how was that hangover of yours?”

“My what? Oh, right.” She blushed, “it was dreadful. I woke up with a throbbing headache the next morning.”

“Wait, hangover?” Susan butted in, “what... did you get her drunk, Bruce?”

The room was immediately dead silent. He quickly remembered how Susan had once accused him of getting his old girlfriend, Estella Lynn, drunk in order to take advantage of the woman. But in truth, she just happened to be an alcoholic.

“Susan,” Tommy raised his eyebrows at her, “we're having an important interview for- what is it,” he looked at Lana, “ _New York Times_ or something?”

“Something like that.”

“So, if you would be so kind...?”

Susan frowned at him. “Fine. Whatever you say... Bruce. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your _'important'_ interview.”

He gulped as he watched her storm off into the bedroom, closing the door a little too loud for the comfort of all nearby ears.

“What was that all about? I hope I didn't upset her.”

He frowned, “no... I think it was me, but, she'll get over it.” He smiled, “now... where were we?”

She grinned, glancing down at her notebook. “What you said earlier... all of that sounded like a rough draft summary of your relationship. I think I already knew it. Now, for your _personal_ relationship with Tommy. Tell me things that your average citizen wouldn't already know. Like... how did you feel when Tommy had been found out and arrested for allegedly murdering his parents, along with a few other victims...” she cringed, “for skin grafts?”

“I don't want to talk about that.”

She looked surprised, “was it that hard seeing your bestest friend go to prison on the charge of multiple horrendous felonies?”

“I-” he looked away from her. “I didn't realize you knew about all of that.”

“Oh, everyone knows about it. Especially, if you're a New York City journalist. Now, is there anything you _will_ talk about? For instance, how did you feel when you first saw your own face staring back at you, knowing that it was your old friend, Tommy Elliot?”

“Who are you?!” He stood up and stared at her defensively.

She frowned, confusedly. “I'm Lana Sands, and I'm a journalist. I'm paid to ask these hard questions.”

“Well, _I_ refuse to answer them.”

She gulped, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up such a touchy subject. I had no idea you were still... for lack of a better word... _traumatized_ by it.”

“Oh, I'm not traumatized. I just don't appreciate journalists coming in here and interrogating me about the past!”

“Interrogating you? It's just an interview for the paper, mister Wayne.”

“I'm going to have to ask you to leave, miss Sands.”

She shook her head, gathered her purse and notebook while she got to her feet in her high heels. “So, we're on last name basis now, are we?”

He raised his eyebrows and sighed, “I guess so.”

“I'm sorry to have offended you. I really didn't mean-”

“You can leave through the same door you initially came in.”

She looked wounded as she started for the door and without another word between the two exchanged.

 


	15. "These Parties We Go To... Nothing Good Ever Happens."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going to a city party never ends well, does it?  
> WARNING: This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

 

Susan was sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from the door. “You were awfully rude out there.”

He sighed, glancing around the bedroom with rolling eyes. “Susan, you were accusing me of getting Lana drunk in order to take advantage of her! How'd you expect me to react? Did you want me to kiss your ass?”

She immediately stood up from the bed, turning around to give him a stern glare. “I've been with you through thick and thin! No one else... no one else knows everything about you, and still loves you... despite any logical _sense_ of loving you, because you sure as hell don't make it easy for anyone.”

He shook his head, glancing away from her and rolling his eyes.

“I'm the only one who knows who you really are, Tommy Elliot... not Bruce Wayne. And I love you anyway. Do you actually think that if... Lana, or whoever, would take a second glance at you if she knew who you really were... the man who has killed people?”

He stared down at the ground.

“I don't appreciate you pushing me aside, just so you can have your _dumb_ interview with your newest fling.”

He looked at her with a frown. “It doesn't matter.” He banged his fist lightly on the door frame, trying to control the desire to hit it even harder. “I scared her off anyway,” he sighed with anguish, “just like I always do... In fact... no one has ever stayed around long enough to _really_ get to know me. The real me, that is.” He walked towards her. “Besides, maybe _you_...” He let out a long sigh. “Look, I don't want there to be strife between us.”

She gulped, “well, neither do I.”

“I'm- I'm sorry I've taken... _you..._ for granted, Susan.”

“It- it's alright.” She pursed her lips with understanding. She then stepped forward to wrap her arms around him in an embrace.

He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms tightly around her as well, holding her close against his body as they both savored the moment with their eyes closed.

She could feel his heart beat as she listened to its distinct rhythm. She spoke softly into his collarbone, “there's a party being thrown tonight.”

He sighed, letting go of her as he leaned back slightly and took a look at her optimistic and girly face.

“In town... uh, I thought maybe you'd want to go. Get your mind off of things. Have some fun... At least come, so I don't have to dance with perfect strangers all night.”

He groaned. “Ugh, Susan. These parties we go to... nothing good ever happens.”

She giggled. “Oh, come on. It'll be fun. I already got my dress for tonight.” She opened up her shopping bag which was sitting on the bed. She pulled out a long, shimmering red gown out of it and held it up to her body to show him. “What do you think? Will I be the belle of the ball?”

He breathed a low whistle, “god, yes. You'll be strikingly hot in that.”

She giggled, a blush warming her fair skin, “thanks, Tommy. You sure know how to make a girl feel tingly all over.” She winked.

“Do I?”

“Mm, hm.” She raised her chin to look at him.

He moved to stand behind her, rubbing his strong hands down both of her arms as he whispered on the back of her neck. “Knock 'em dead tonight.”

Her body immediately reacted by sending chills up her spine along with a subtle adrenaline rush. She gulped and closed her eyes for a moment... wishing so much that he would just go for it and kiss her neck right now. Then, reality hit her, she knew she had to turn around now and look at him before things got even more awkward.

She wondered why he was so confusing with the way he acted all the time. Was he flirting with her, or just trying to frustrate her even more for kicks? Leaving her hoping for there possibly being more in their relationship? She shook her head and sighed with disappointment as she watched him smile, and then casually take his leave.

“Damn, why is he so _infuriating_?”

 

~:~

 

 

“How the hell are you here, Ramona?”

The conniving woman laughed, “oh, darling. Don't you get the news where you live? I had _mi_ court hearing. I was not found guilty.”

He clenched his jaw and fist as he stared at her with anger boiling inside of him. “What? You weren't found guilty after what you freakin' did?!”

“No. And hush, darling. People will hear.” She snatched a glass of champagne from a servant's tray who passed them. “ _Me encanta esta ciudad_.” She stepped toward him and took a quick sniff of his scent as she stood by him. “Mmm. You smell _muy, muy caliente_ , darling... Oh, I never forgot your scent while in prison. I dreamed about you coming into _mi_ cell every night. So _sexy_.” She bit her bottom lip as she looked up at him. “What's it called, darling?”

He glared at her. “It's called, take a step back, Ramona. If you're close enough that you can smell me... you're too damn close.” He clenched his jaw in agitation as he gave her a quick glance.

She chuckled. “Oh, believe me, I can _taste_ you from here, and _would_ if you'd give me the honor to pleasure you one last time.” A sinister simper ran over her face.

“Heh.” He glanced around at the other party-goers nearby as he searched for an escape route if necessary. “Sure,” he refused to look at her, “more like pleasure yourself and your perverted sexual appetite.”

She smiled, “Darling, look at me. Look what _your_ body did to _me_!”

He frowned and finally looked at her, her stomach was bulging evidently, revealing that she was about five months pregnant.

She touched his arm, “you got me pregnant. No one forced your penis to release inside me, but it did and-”

“Stop talking.” He licked his bottom lip, shaking his head in disgust.

“It's impossible for you _no_ to have enjoyed it... like you did, darling. You-”

“I said shut the hell up.” He gritted his teeth as he then squeezed onto her arm, pulling her towards him as his eyes widened in irritation, scanning her olive complexion.

She gazed back at his blue eyes solemnly.

He gulped as he searched her dark brown eyes and whispered, “you're sick.”

“I'm just stating what happened, darling.” She paused and then took the chance, sneakily slipping a hand down below to rest on his belt buckle. “And how it could happen again if you _want_.” She stared at him while biting her plump, dark red painted bottom lip, playing on her bang-up seduction skills.

His grip tightened around her arm, “remove your hand from me right now, Ramona.”

She smirked, “you remove yours _first_.”

He continued to grip onto her arm as he stared at her.

“Oh, darling. The sexual tension is _killing_ you!”

He finally released her arm, rolling his eyes as she too, put away her hand while taking a sip from her champagne flute, nonchalantly.

He saw her and hastily grabbed the glass from her. He quickly gulped it down with one swallow. “You shouldn't be drinking.” He raised his eyebrows, patronizingly, “it's bad for the baby.” He gave back the empty glass, then turned from her to walk away.

She sighed with disappointment as she watched him leave, standing alone as she delved deep into lustful longing as she watched the back of him. Her eyes deeply appreciating his nice butt in his pants and his toned back muscles showing through the back of his dark gray dress shirt.

 

“Hello.” Susan came up to her. “So, I heard you got off the hook. Doesn't make a lick of sense.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “here you are once again. The jealous _novia.”_

She frowned, “what the heck's a ' _novia_ '?”

“A girlfriend, silly.”

“Ha, unfortunately, I'm far from being his girlfriend.”

“ _Buena_. It would be _muy mal_ if I knew the _padre_ of _mi_ child was _servicios_ his sperm to another woman.”

Susan opened her mouth, suppressing a laugh. “Uh, service his what... sperm? Could you be more explicit?”

The woman laughed. “Didn't you know, _chica_ , I'm pregnant with his child?”

“Yes, actually I did. He and I talk to each other. He tells me everything.”

“But only as an _amiga, si?_ ”

Susan smirked with the desire to upset the evil woman, “maybe more as a bang-buddy actually.” She took a gulp of her champagne.

Ramona gasped in shock.

A brunette woman came up to join the conversation, holding a glass of champagne in her dainty hand and wearing an indigo colored gown. “Who's bang-buddys?” She smiled. “I'm Samantha, by the way.”

Susan's cheeks immediately flushed, knowing that someone else other than her intended target had heard her racy statement.

Ramona chuckled, “apparently Susan and Bruce Wayne are.”

“What?” The woman gasped.

“N-no. I- I-” She stuttered with embarrassment. “I was just kidding. Well, partly kidding.”

“Oh?” Samantha looked interested, eyes popping out like a horny teenage girl.

Susan bit her bottom lip with anxiety. “Um,” she glanced at Ramona, raising an eyebrow at her. “I will admit, that he and I... have been intimate in the past a couple of times. But, not recently. The man really plays hard to get _and_ keep.”

“Mm, hmm.” Ramona smirked, “that is why I like 'im.”

Susan frowned as she followed her gaze, she was staring at the back of Tommy, he was talking to a few people about fifteen feet away.

 

Samantha turned toward Ramona. “That man just seems to _'excrete'_ sex, doesn't he?”

“What?” Susan immediately perked up from the statement. “What do you mean?” She frowned at the woman.

“I mean, gosh, just standing close to the man gets me sopping wet.”

“I know,” Ramona grinned, “tell me about it, darling.”

“Oh, how good it must feel to ride _him_... Mm, mm!”

“Oh, _si_ , I know,” Ramona grinned, still checking him out from a distance. “Those tight hips of his, ooh, he _is_ fantastic in missionary.”

“Okay, okay!” Susan finally interrupted as she remembered her favorite position with him was in missionary. She felt mortified that they were mentioning it as flashbacks came back into her mind. She didn't want to be reminiscing about her and Tommy's intimate past in her head here, in a ball, not to mention, with a stranger and the most worse person on the face of the planet... Ramona. Susan felt entirely embarrassed. If only Tommy knew these two women were saying such crude things about him behind his back. Of course Ramona would disperse crude comments, but this stranger as well?

Susan felt a little jealous... she didn't at all like the idea that other women would want to eat him up if they got the chance. She hoped Tommy wouldn't give them the time of day, but she never knew with him. After what happened with _her.._ Ramona. She didn't know _what_ he might do when given such a proposition. Truth is, she didn't trust him anymore.

Susan raised her voice slightly. “Ramona.”

She grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the servers as they passed by and took a sip. “Yes, darling, Susan?” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I just want you to know something.” She stepped closer to her, pointing a finger at her protruding belly. “ _He_ may be the father of your unfortunate child, but you will never... and I mean _never..._ lay a hand on Tommy again for as long as you live!”

She laughed. “Who's Tommy?”

“Uh, I meant... Bruce.”

“Oh, Bruce. Of course she mean Bruce.” She turned toward Samantha. “Darling, darling. He does not like you. Can you no see that?” She took a self-satisfied sip of her sparkling beverage.

Susan's upper lip quivered with emotion. “You- you-”

“What? Do you have something to say, darling?”

“He does, and I'll- I'll prove it to you.”

“Prove it me by doing what?”

“I'm going to go up and kiss him right now. Just watch.”

“Oh, this should be good, no?”

Samantha raised her eyebrows and the two women watched Susan march off toward him.

He was standing alone when she came up to him. “Tommy, I- I-” her breath caught in her throat, she hadn't anticipated being so nervous to ask him to kiss her.

“What?” He frowned, “what's wrong?”

“I- um, will you just... kiss me on the lips real quick?”

“What?” He looked passed her and saw the two women watching intently with grins sprung on their lips. He frowned, “what's going on, Susan?”

“Just, please... do it.”

He shook his head, “no. I'm not playing games tonight, Susan.”

She gasped, “but- but Tommy.”

He turned and walked away from her.

 

~:~

 

Ramona, in her short, hot pink, silk dress, resembling a nightgown, saw Tommy standing alone, so she immediately made her way over to him.

When he saw her, he immediately looked away from her, trying to ignore her presence in hopes she wouldn't talk to him.

She joined him in front of the drink table. “Here we are together again, handsome.”

He kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the crowd of dancers in the middle of the ballroom. His gaze shifted to Susan, who was talking to a small group of party-goers.

Ramona followed his gaze. “Hmph, Susan Garfield seems quite sociable this evening. Seems no like her. She is _so_ shy.”

“Susan's a kind person. Plenty of people enjoy her company.”

She smirked, “oh, yes. I'm sure _you_ do for sure. So, what is the, uh... history... you have with her?”

He rolled his eyes as he continued to keep an eye on Susan. “Nothing I care to share with you.”

“Hmph, I was just asking, darling.” She turned her head to gaze at his profile as she sighed. “Oh, Bruce. The things we could do together.”

He kept a straight face as he refused to look at her.

She grinned. “Your mind just went somewhere... no?”

He frowned, “no. But, apparently yours did.”

She reached for his hand that was hanging at his side. He immediately jerked it away as he turned to pay her a much deserved glare.

“You didn't mean for me to _no_ touch your hand, _tambien,_ did you?”

With that, he growled, and suddenly pushed her against the drink table, making her land against it and knocking over the huge, pink punch bowl on the table. Almost the entire ballroom seemed to stop to look at them after hearing the loud breaking of glass. Ramona stood up slowly, she was completely drenched in the sugary, pink liquid. Her short, hot pink dress clinging to her baby bump, pelvis and thighs.

 

“Miss Bartenelli? What happened?” A man nearby, who apparently knew her, asked, “Mr. Wayne?”

Tommy gulped, “I- I-”

“It was _mi_ fault.” Ramona spoke up, shaking her head calmly. “I tripped in _mi_ damn heels. _Lo siento_. I ruined the punch everybody.”

Many exchanges of hushed whispers crowded the place.

The man, who owned the house, spoke up. “Everyone go back to your party activities... I'll send for a servant to clean up the mess.”

Soon, the party resumed as usual and the music began playing again. Ramona looked toward Tommy. The reality of the ruckus he caused was finally starting to sink in and show on his face.

“Oh, Bruce. Seriously, you need to control yourself. You very aggressive. I mean, look at me.” She turned toward the male servant who was cleaning up the sticky liquid and the glass. “Can I get a towel or something. _Por favor_?”

“Oh, yes, Miss. I'll be right back with it.” The servant hastily disappeared.

She smirked at Tommy. “Unless you'd like to clean up my legs with your oh, so soft tongue?”

He blinked quickly. “Excuse me?”

“I'm only kidding, darling.” She laughed at seeing him getting riled up.

The servant returned. “Miss, I spoke to the master, and he insists on you taking a shower in one of the guestrooms with an adjoined bathroom.”

“And what about _mi_ damn dress, _Senor_?”

“We can wash it quickly, toss it in the dryer and have it ready for you by the time you get out of the shower.”

“Oh, _gracias_. Tell the master that he is kind.”

“Yes. Your room is number twenty-three. I'll show you to-”

“Oh, don't bother, darling. I can manage on _mi_ own... or with _una_ escort.” She glanced at Tommy who was watching and listening to the conversation intently. She grabbed a bottle of champagne and two flutes from the drink table, then began walking toward the stairwell, glancing behind her and giving him the 'come here' gesture with her index finger.

He gulped, hesitant for a second, but then followed her. By now, he was feeling ravaging and craved another drink, even if it meant the fact of having the dreadful woman as company. Strangely, she looked pretty enticing to him at the moment.

 

They came to the twenty-third door somewhere along the long hallway, opened it and she switched on a lamp, sitting on the nightstand by the bed. It was a large guest bedroom with a queen-size bed, long garnet hued curtains and dark gray walls. There was an adjoining large bathroom with the door left open.

She hummed, excitedly. “I'm so glad you decided to join me, darling.”

“I don't know what I'm doing here.” He sounded lost as his breathing started to hasten.

“Darling, darling. Wait, una momenta. I'm taking a shower first. I'm all... uh, what's the word, 'sticky', you know. Because of your temper _caliente._ ” She laughed.

“Do you think this is funny?” He glared at her, clenching his jaw.

She paused, “ _si_ , a little.”

“I only came up here with you to get drunk without her judging me.”

“Who?”

“Susan.”

“Awe, I see. Well, no judgement here, darling.” She grinned and headed toward the bathroom entrance.

He looked toward the champagne bottle and the two flutes sitting on the nightstand.

“ _Por favor_ , help yourself, darling. I'll be, as you Americans say, out in a jiffy.” She called over her shoulder as she walked inside and immediately started unzipping her dress.

He could see inside the bathroom clearly as she stepped out of her little dress. He watched the back of her as she unsnapped her white bra, slid it off her arms, then, pulled down her white underwear and gracefully stepped out of it.

He gulped while watching her make her way over to the the clear shower door, open it and turn on the hot water. He saw the side of her naked body... her stomach bulging far past her breasts. He noticed how she looked even more obviously pregnant while naked as she glanced at him with a smirk. He continued to watch her until she stepped inside the shower and was out of sight.

While she was in the shower, he went to sit on the bed, grabbed the champagne bottle, popped it open and poured himself a glass. He took a sip, then sighed and gulped down the rest out of the tiny flute. He stared at it for a moment, then cursed to himself, “ugh, god, Tommy.” He then started guzzling from the champagne bottle itself, he blatantly was giving up on trying to control his alcoholic drawn thirst.

 

Once she turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, she came out and saw him finishing off the entire bottle and coming up for breath, gasping loudly.

“Oh, darling. The sound of you panting... mm, that be music to _mi_ ears. Brings back memories, no?”

He felt the room spin around him as he tried to focus his eyes on her, wrapped in a dark red towel. She was seen walking toward him with a vainglorious grin.

He stared at her as she then dropped her towel right there in front of him. “Mm, I be in need of your _servicios_ tonight, darling.” She grabbed him by his black tie, loosened it slowly, pulling it out from his dark gray shirt collar. She then started ripping down the buttons down his shirt.

He closed his eyes, dazedly. “Uh, just what the hell do you think you're doing?”

She finished opening his shirt all the way, revealing his hard chest and abdomen as her hands felt all over his torso in appreciation of his toned muscles. “You knew what you were getting yourself into when you followed me into this room, no?”

“I- I just-”

“Hush...” she placed a finger to his lips. “Oh, darling, _darling_. You always tell no truth. Always lying to yourself.” She then abrasively pulled his shirt off all the way and threw it to the ground. “I can see it in your eyes... you want me.” She giggled, “it's been a long time, no?”

He gulped as he tried scanning her naked body before him but it was practically a blur from the intoxication. She then pulled down the sheets beside him and sat down.

He groaned, then with the back of his hand, wiped away any moistness from his lips, caused from any champagne that had leaked out of his mouth. He stared at her as she lowered her black eyelashes with a smirk. She then got on her hands and knees, crawled over to him, throwing a bare leg over his lap to straddle him. She parted her lips and pressed his bottom lip in between her front teeth, nibbling on it. He pulled back to look at her for a few seconds until she pushed herself on him again and they began to make out, sloppily.

 

He eventually pulled back to stare at her solemnly as he brought a hand to grip her bare butt. A couple fingers inched their way behind her and in between her legs, he finally thrust them inside of her vagina.

“Oh.” Her mouth shot open from both surprise and enjoyment as she whimpered, “uh, darling. _Si_.” She panted and moaned while his fingers delved in and out of her canal. She entangled her hands inside his locks, making his once neatly combed and smoothed hair into a disheveled mess. With each thrust she received, she responded by pulling a chunk of his dark hair. “Ohhh. Mm.” She instinctively opened her legs wider and wider across his lap.

Without warning, he took his fingers out of her body and rested his hand on his knee and just stared at her, solemnly.

“Don't stop, darling. Give it to me again.”

“No. I wouldn't want to give you the satisfaction.” He pushed her to the side, making her fall onto the bed while he stood to his feet.

She sat up and looked at him confusedly. “Do you need more spirits, darling?”

“No.” He growled with impatience as he huffed and puffed. “Let's just get this over with.” She sat up and he pushed her aggressively back onto the bed, having her fall onto her back. The distinct clang of his belt buckle sounded as he unfastened it. She closed her eyes, and couldn't help herself from grinning once she heard the satisfying sigh from the zipper of his pants.

When he was entirely naked, she opened her eyes to gaga at his virile frame. He was looking down at her legs as he pushed them apart with force to open them. He then scooted up against her, situating his body over hers by holding up his torso with his strong arms by her sides.

She got even more and more aroused, feeling his body now brushing against her groin. She gripped onto the sheets with her hands in tight fists in order to brace herself. He glanced at her unsubdued pleased face one last time before shoving himself inside of her. It was then, her grip tightened and she pulled at the sheets with a drawn-out moan.

He rolled his eyes at the theatrical sounds she made every time a wave of pleasure hit her and he hoped no one downstairs could hear. A part of him didn't even care if they could, because at the moment, all he wanted now was this... some unholy, filthy, hate sex... He soon began to pant after a few thrusts. Once and awhile, releasing a reverberating growl dripping with frustration and tension. His repetitive bodily movements were filled with retribution. The underlying resentment he felt towards her, coming out with every hard, brutal and relentless thrust inside of her. It caused her to cry out, simultaneously, with pain and pleasure. Metaphorically, it seemed like he was trying to diligently grind a lump of coal into a diamond.

 

 

~:~

 

Susan had a glass of champagne in her lily white hand when she saw Tommy and Ramona rejoining the party together. It had been a few hours, and she had been looking everywhere for him. Tommy's hair appeared to be re-parted, wavy and wasn't exactly smooth like before. Tommy's button down, dark gray dress shirt was slightly wrinkled. Ramona's hair looked like she had just gotten out of bed, her black locks looking somewhat frizzy.

Susan frowned as she watched an exchange of the pair from the distance while they stood by a drink table. Ramona was smiling as she picked up a glass of champagne and was reaching up to force it into his face so he could drink it. He immediately grabbed her by her wrist roughly to lower the drink out of his face and set it back down onto the table. He looked irritated as he looked down to say something to her. She replied, pursing her lips smugly, making him frown and then walk away from her.

Susan quickly looked the other way. She hoped he didn't notice her watching him while she pretended to be watching the drunk dancers in front of her.

He came up to her and sighed. “I'm going home.”

“What? Why? Aren't you enjoying yourself?”

He stared at her, frowning, then looked away and watched the dancers. “No... Look, I'm leaving _with_ or _without_ you, Susan.”

She frowned. “Geesh. What's gotten into you, Mr. Grumpy pants?”

“Nothing. I just- I'm leaving.” He turned for the exit and she noticed him walking abnormally, revealing to her that he was either really tired or... half-drunk.

 

 


	16. Not When You're Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Lana's article about Tommy Elliot wasn't exactly true according to Tommy.  
> Tommy begins to realize his addiction is becoming much worse than he thought.

  Lana’s assistant spoke to her over the intercom. “Lana, I believe a man by the name of Bruce Wayne is here to see you.”

  “Bruce Wayne? Hmm, maybe he’s come to apologize about the way he treated me the other day.” She sat up straighter in her desk as she pressed the ‘speak’ button. “Uh, send him in.”

  A second later, Tommy opened the door, shutting it behind him, he immediately scanned her neat workplace. “You know, I used to have my own office like this.” He looked straightly at her and sighed. “Seems so long ago now.”

  She stood up from her desk and extended her hand. “Mr. Wayne? It’s a pleasure to see you this afternoon.”

  He disregarded her handshake as he waved his hand down, gesturing her to reclaim her seat. He stared at their Gotham high graduation class picture that was framed and hung on the wall. He immediately searched for her in the photo with her navy-blue cap and gown on, smiling brightly. Then his eyes rested on himself… his old self with auburn hair and green eyes standing in the back of the group photo, putting on a mischievous smirk. He sighed heavily, “why do you have to ruin my life, Lana?”

  “Excuse me?” She frowned, confusedly.

  He turned to look at her. “You like to write stories?”

  “Well, of course. I mean, I _am_ a journalist. It’s what I do.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and when you _write_ stories… I presume, you must have to twist the truth, and blatantly make stuff up, disregarding anyone’s feelings in order to make it good, and roll in the dough, right?”

 She frowned. “You're a real piece of work, you know that? And I intend to _work_ on you soon enough.”

  He squinted his eyes. “Is that a _double entendre_ , miss Sands?”

  She gasped, “n-no. I just meant-”

   “Yeah, sure.” He deepened his voice. “Come on, honey, you and I both know you wanted to screw the first time you laid eyes on me.”

  Her eyes grew large and she glanced away from him. “W-what? Um. I- I don't know _what_ you're talking about.”

  “Sure, you do.”

  “No, I don’t. I went on that date with you to get you out of my hair. You practically forced me. Not very gentlemanly, Mr. Wayne.”

  He laughed, “ah, yeah. You could’ve said no. And don’t get me started on that stupid gentlemanly crap that’s been thrust upon me by my excruciating mother since birth.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Well, your mother must have been a good woman. But, you sure didn’t listen to anything she said, now did you?”

  He rolled his eyes haughtily while he almost tripped when his legs wobbled from underneath him as he started to come towards her desk.

  “Are… you drunk?”

 He shot her a glare. “It would be well advised... _not_ to get on my bad side right now.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “you are, aren’t you?”

  He ignored her question again as he snatched the folded newspaper from his jacket pocket. “But it appears you've already done that by writing this _shit!_ ” He slammed the paper on her desk in front of her.

  She looked at it, then raised her dark brown eyebrows. “This ' _shit'_ is how I hold down a job.”

  “Yeah, ‘you're job’. Where you go into someone’s home, interrogate them for answers, and then when they _refuse_ to answer, you just make up a story. Just so you can get paid.”

  “I'm sorry. I- I assumed it was close to the truth, and that it wouldn't be that big of a deal to add a couple minor details. Come on, journalists do it all the time.”

  “It's not _just_ what you wrote. People aren't supposed to know I'm living here in New York City.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” he banged his fist lightly on the nearest wall. “They just aren't.” He turned to look at her, “look, I have the right to a private life. I shouldn't have to have it plastered in the headlines by some mediocre journalist.”

  “Excuse me?” She stood up from her desk. “Mediocre? Have you even read any _other_ stories I've written?”

  “No. But you can't be that good.”

  She frowned, walking out from her desk and coming up to him, she poked a finger in the center of his chest. “I _am_ a damn good journalist. You should do your homework, Bruce.”

  He smirked, “mm, no. I haven’t done homework since med school. No thanks, honey.”

  “Med school?”

  He ignored her question again. “I’ll tell you what, miss Sands. Since you’re such a self-proclaimed hotshot journalist… next time your boss gives you the directive to write about Tommy Elliot in one of your stories, flat-out turn ‘em down. I’ll pay you double the amount he or she will ever pay you.”

  “You really have a sensitive spot when it comes to your friend, Tommy… don’t you? Why?”

  “None of your damn business, miss Sands. Now, we understand each other? Do we have a deal?” He extended his right hand.

  She looked at his hand in hesitance for a few seconds. “Yes.” She said, reluctantly shaking his hand.

  He held the handshake in a tight hold for a moment, staring at her. “You swear to God?

  She gulped, holding his gaze. “I said, yes.”

  He released her hand. “Okay.” He took a quick glance around her office one last time before heading for the door.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped, his hand resting on the doorknob as he turned.

  “How about you pay me double what my boss just paid me right now. You have deep pockets. I’m sure it’s no biggie for you, right?”

  “Heh.” He smirked, “nice try, but no.” He opened the door.

 “You know what, Bruce, I don't ever want to see you barging into my office again!”

 “Too bad.” He went out.

 

~:~

 

  Tommy arrived back home at the apartment with a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag. He was collapsed onto the couch, drinking straight from the bottle with a dazed look in his eyes.

  Susan came home at that moment, setting down her purse and keys on an end table and going straight into the kitchen. She started preparing the tea kettle and placed it on the stove. “Good evening, Tommy. How've you been? Want some tea?”

  “Huh?” He shook his head, trying to wake himself up. “What?”

  “I asked you how you've been.”

  “Oh. Fine.” He slurred his speech slightly, “just fine.”

  She frowned and came into the living room to look at him. “Tommy?” She gasped when she saw the bottle in the paper sack. “Have you been drinking?” She took a whiff of his breath. “Ugh, you _wreak_ of the stuff.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “What I do with my time... is none of your damn business, _Mother_.”

  “Tommy, give me that.” She tried reaching for the bottle, but he quickly jerked his hand away.

  “N-no. Just let me have this. God, Susan.” He tilted it to take another swallow.

  She shook her head. “Why the heck are you drinking? What's going on with you lately?”

  He frowned at her. “Nothing. Can't I drink for no reason without being judged by everyone?”

  “I'm worried about you.”

  “Don't be.” He scowled at her. “I can handle it.”

  “No, you can't. We both know that. Come on, you’re better than this.”

   “No, Susan, I’m not. That’s the problem.” He brought the bottle to his lips and took another sip.

   She stood there watching silently and trying to figure out how to get him to stop drinking without arousing a fight.

  He noticed her just standing there as he raised his head to see her. “Come 'ere.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her down to sit next to him. “Oh, Susan.” He whispered as he released his bottle in order to lean on her.

  “Tommy-”

  He sighed as his face rested on the side of her head, “hmm?” He moved his face down to the side of her neck, he lifted his head and stared at her carotid artery for a moment. She held her breath as he then moved to slowly mouth her neck. It immediately sent tingles down her spine and a great warming sensation throughout her entire body.

 

  Even though she had waited and fantasized about him kissing her neck many times and for the longest time… she felt guilty letting him do it when she knew he wasn’t in his right state of mind. She wasn’t sure if he would even remember it afterwards. He was highly intoxicated and his warm breath was incredibly tainted with whiskey. She didn't want him this way, but a part of her didn’t even care if it meant _finally_ getting intimate with him again.

 

  “Mm, Susan.” He kept licking, mouthing and nibbling her neck. She turned her face to look at him, he met her gaze, his eyelids only halfway open, almost half a sleep looking, but ashamedly, she didn’t care. She grabbed his head, both hands on the side of his face, cocked her head and began kissing him. It quickly escalated into a great, long over-due make out with tongue deeply involved. All she wanted to do now was taste both the inside and outside of his mouth. She wanted his every germ, and wanted to bathe in his saliva. Something that would be incredibly gross from anyone else, but from him right now, it was hot as heck. To be able to savor the sensation that was letting it all go and giving their mouth and tongue muscles an intense workout together.

  She wondered if she could take it further as she scooted over to straddle his lap. He held onto her tightly, rubbing his hands down her back, feeling her up and down. His hands beginning to slip underneath her shirt, and grazing the back of her bra.

  After a moment, he pushed her onto the couch roughly, he then brought his black t-shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. He got on top of her and started kissing her again while he clearly allowed more sexually-charged energy take control of his body while he started to swing his pelvis up against her.

  She immediately knew where he was taking it, and as much as she could easily let go and let it happen. She felt guilt-ridden, so she lightly pushed him on his chest. “No. Tommy,” She mumbled in the middle of a salivary kiss. He didn’t stop as he pushed his body against her even harder. “No, stop!” This time she pushed him extremely hard to get him off of her.

  He flung back onto the couch and onto his back, groaning from the impact.

  “Stop. I'm not doing this with you. Not when you're like this. Okay?”

  His eyes were closed as he leaned back further into the couch, laying his head on the headrest. She watched him, shaking her head, and saw him become unconscious practically right away. She gasped as she stood up and went to check out his head, making sure she didn’t give him a concussion or break his head open from hitting the headrest too hard. She lifted his heavy head up with her hand and searched through his dark hair, looking for any sign of blood. He seemed to be okay, so she assumed he just blacked-out because of the alcohol.

 

~:~

 

  Tommy woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache from his hangover. He had spent the entire night on the couch from when he collapsed from his blackout. His shirt had been abusively torn off of him and was lying by his feet on the floor when he sat up on the couch. He squinted his eyes at  the open window, the sun shining through made his head throb even more. He saw Susan sitting on a chair on the other side of the living room with a book in her lap.

  “Hey.” He rubbed his face tiredly with his hands. “Oh, god. What happened?” He noticed his shirt on the ground. “Why’s my shirt off?”

  Susan gulped and hesitated to answer as she closed her book in her lap. “Um-“

  He frowned at her hesitation. “Did we-?

  She gasped. “No, no.”

  “Oh.” He nodded with relief showing on his face.

  She frowned, “don’t act too relieved, Tommy. We still-”

  “What? No. I was just-“

  She sighed, pursing her lips, choosing not to tell him. “Forget about it.”

  “Oh, god.” He rubbed his forehead. “I just have the _worse_ headache. I think I’ll make some coffee, maybe it’ll help.” He got up off the couch, picked up his shirt and put it on. He went into the kitchen and she followed behind him. He began preparing the coffee maker. He noticed Susan just standing there silently in his peripheral vision. “What’s on your mind, Susan?” He said without looking at her while he scooped coffee grounds into the brewer basket. He then turned on the coffee pot and turned to lean against the counter to look at her.

  “Oh, n-nothing. I was just thinking.”

  “Hey, hey, Susan. Whoa, who gave you that?”

  “What?”

  He pointed a finger to the carotid artery on his own neck and grinned.

  She put a hand to the slightly swollen red blotch on the side of her neck. “Oh, um,” she looked down, “gee, I don’t know.” She lied.

 He picked up the carafe from the coffee burner and started pouring his mug full. “Is there someone you want to tell me about?” He grinned.

  “Actually, Tommy…”

  He brought the mug to his mouth and began taking a sip of the hot liquid.

  “ _You_ gave me the love bite.”

  He almost choked on his mouthful of coffee. “Um, what?” He looked at her with wide eyes.

  She gulped, “we- you, I mean… you were very drunk yesterday afternoon and, uh- we… had a… pretty _energetic_ make out session for a good fifteen minutes.” 

  “Oh.” He set his mug down on the counter in front of him and then turned to look at her with a confused expression. “My god, I- I don’t remember anything.”

  “I knew you probably wouldn’t. Tommy, you were so intoxicated that you blacked out.”

  He looked away from her, deep thought clearly showing on his face.

  “You need to try to stop this. You can’t let yourself become-”

  He quickly looked at her defensively. “What? Like my father?”

  “No.” She frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “But you were thinking it.”

  “No, Tommy, I wasn’t. I was just going to say-”

  “Do me a favor, and stop talking.” He stepped closer to her. “I don’t need or _want_ your input into how I live my life, Susan.”

  “Listen to yourself. You’re such a freakin’ jerk!”

  He chuckled mockingly, picking up his mug and taking a sip. “If you don’t like it. Get out.” He nudged her shoulder as he moved passed her.


	17. Tensions Run High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions run high with Tommy and Susan. Later, Tommy runs into Lana in a café.

 

He turned around, slamming the refrigerator door closed, then leaning against it and popping open his cold bottle of beer, he gulped down a few mouthfuls.  
Susan came into the kitchen at that moment, sighing as she was reminded of their last hostile conversation.

“I'm surprised you're still here.” He spoke, not looking at her as he took another swallow.

“Tommy, I have no other place to go.”

He raised an eyebrow, “what about your sister's?”

She gulped, not wanting to make it obvious to him that she just didn't want to leave.

He grimaced, judging the bottle in his fist. “This stuff is too goddamn weak.”

“You have the hard stuff hidden behind the bookshelf in the living room.”

He stared at her, surprised of her knowledge of his hiding place.

She raised her golden eyebrows. “I believe it's behind 'Wuthering Heights'.”

He gulped, standing up straighter. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot.” He stepped toward her closely, towering over, trying to intimidate her. “Thanks for reminding me, Susan.”

She stared him right in the eye as she wouldn't break eye contact, knowing he was obviously trying to make her uncomfortable with his.

He nudged her arm, purposely as he passed her and went into the living room. He searched for the 'Wuthering Heights' book and when he found it, he pulled it out and grinned when the sight of his full bottle of whiskey came into view. He retrieved the bottle, unscrewed the lid and drank it straight from the bottle, the high alcohol content, burned his mouth and throat moderately as it went down. He shuddered from the overwhelming sensation.

Susan followed him into the room and took a seat, quietly on the couch.

He came and sat down on the other end of the three-seated couch and took another swallow from his bottle.

She looked at him across from her, he was depressingly, just staring out the window. “Can I have a taste?” She asked shyly.

He met her gaze quickly. “Uh, sure.”

She scooted over to sit right beside him as he handed her the large bottle. She took a huge swallow, and crinkled her face from the overwhelming warmth of the alcohol immediately flushing her face as it went down. “Oh, gosh. That's quite... the shot.”

He smirked.

A moment passed in silence as the alcohol started to make Susan not feel as mad at him for becoming a drunkard, she thought that she could understand him a little better if she indulged with him.

“So, you're saying we actually made-out last night?” He asked thoughtfully as the booze kicked in.

She gulped, surprised of his mentioning it again. “Uh, yeah. We really did.” She timidly looked at him.

He turned to meet her gaze. “Well, how was it?”

She smiled, shyly. “You really don't remember anything?”

“Nah, uh.”

“Well...” she took in a deep breath and then exhaled loudly. “It had been a long time for me since I had had any kind of romantic happenings with anyone. Like a year. It- it felt good. _A-hem_.” She bashfully made eye contact.

He leaned toward her, “really?”

“Y-yeah. What do you mean, really?”

“No, I mean it's really been a year?”

“Yes."

"Susan, from what I recall, your last sexual encounter was about four months ago, when you... uh, touched me." He gave her alluring eye contact.

Her mouth shot open in surprise as she looked away quickly. "Oh, I- I forgot about that." She, embarrassed, snatched the bottle from him, and took a gulp. "Um, but still, four months is awhile." She looked at him, he was now staring at her like he didn't believe her. "What? Is that so hard for you to believe? Mm, I guess it is for _you_.”

He frowned, “what's that supposed to mean?”

“You're a _hyper-sexual_ person. I know you get around.”

He chuckled, “what... come on, Susan. No, I'm not. Quite the contrary.”

“Ramona?” She said the name with much disdain as she grabbed the bottle from him, while not breaking eye contact as she took another swallow of the whiskey.

He immediately stopped chuckling, “what?”

“Ramona. How many times were you two together?” She raised an eyebrow, curiously.

He stared at her seriously, “I'm not answering that.”

“Why not? How many times was it? Too many to count?”

He frowned, and came out sounding angry. “No. God, Susan. I'm not telling you, because it's none of your damn business.”

She paused, staring at him seriously. Then she placed the bottle on the coffee table and pushed him on the chest.

He frowned as he held her relentless stare.

She rubbed her hands across his chest and broad shoulders as she scooted even closer. Then she pushed him in the chest again, harder this time. “Come on. If you're so angry. Hit me. Put up a freakin' fight, Tommy.”

“Stop it, Susan.”

“Come on, hit me.” She hit him in the arm, chest, shoulder multiple times, beating on him.

“Stop!” He grabbed her by her arms roughly and pushed her onto the couch as he got on top of her. “ _B**ch_.” He growled and smacked the side of the couch, making her instinctively flinch and blink her eyes.

She laid there, constricted as they held intense eye contact. She frowned, “come on. Do what you want to me. Show me what you're made of.” She couldn't help but be reminded of their make out last night with his body on top of her, except right now, it wasn't quite as “friendly”.

He breathed heavily as he grabbed a hold of her head roughly, almost like you would in a kiss as he thought for a moment with a frown. She wondered if he was going to kiss her for a second. He rubbed his body against her as he tried to get off of her, stood up, grabbed the bottle and took another swig.

She started to sit up as she watched him.

He turned around to look at her sternly. “Just why the hell would you provoke me like that? Do you want me to hurt you in order to prove a point? To prove that I have it in me? Because, newsflash... like _f***in' hell_ I have it in me! You have no idea how easily I could break, Susan.”

She sat there speechless and feeling a little ashamed of what she just did.

“Do you also know how long I fought not to give in to the drink? My entire life...” he paused, “up until now, of course.” He stared at the bottle in his hand, sadly.

“I- I'm sorry.”

He looked at her quickly with a blank expression and then left the room, moving into the bedroom.

 

 

~:~

 

While in bed, Tommy started moaning and sighing in anguish as he was in a deep sleep.

The noise awoke Susan, so she lightly tried to shake him awake by nudging his arm. “Tommy, wake up. Wake up... you're having a nightmare.”

“Ahh.” He suddenly pushed her, having her fall onto her back. He was panting and in a cold sweat.

She gasped.

He looked at her. “Sorry.” He sighed as he laid back on his back. “Oh, gah, it was horrible.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He let out a long, tortured sigh. “Ramona.”

She gulped at the _dreaded_ name. “Yeah?”

He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling and licking his bottom lip. “I- I was becoming her slave. She was taking control over my life and forcing me to live with her and raise Roman.”

She frowned, “Roman? Is that the baby's name?”

“Well, that's what I dreamt his name was.”

“Really?”

“Sounds dumb, I know.”

She grinned, “no, go on.”

“She's-” he frowned, “a _terrible_ woman. I couldn't tell you the things she was doing in my dream.”

“What?”

He glanced at her, shaking his head. “You already know what. Come on, she's a pervert.”

“What'd she do to you?”

He looked at her, “I'd rather spare you the details.”

She laid on her side and watched him as she reached slowly and started running her hand through his dark hair. “Were you turned on?”

He paused and turned to look at her confusedly as he glanced down at her soft lips. “Um... I think that's enough talk for one night.”

She leaned forward and tried placing a kiss on his lips, but he jerked his head back as he hastily put a hand around her shoulder to push her back. She opened her eyes quickly and looked surprised by his rejection.

“Susan...” he looked down at her chest, “I think, perhaps, I've given you the wrong impression.”

“W-what?” She gulped, “why did you make out with me so passionately the other night, then, huh?”

“I- I don't know... hormones. You know that I was drunk.”

“Yes, but I don't think you can deny that there's something between us.”

He let go of her shoulder, turned to lay on his back and said nothing.

Susan tried to keep the tears from forming in her eyes as she turned the other way to face the wall. She contemplated the possibility that Ramona was right... maybe he really didn't like her like she thought he did... that prospect broke her heart tremendously.

 

~:~

 

The next morning came, once Tommy got himself to get out of bed, despite the massive hangover, he went into the kitchen and looked at the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He debated for a moment on whether taking a shot to start his day. He decided against it, left the apartment and went to a nearby cafe. He ordered a black coffee and then took his seat at a table for two by a window at the back of the coffeehouse. His head throbbed, so he rested his forehead in the palm of his hand as he stared down into his mug.

A woman came up to his table and questioned. “Mr. Wayne?”

He shook from the startling, unexpected inquiry as he turned to look up. Lana Sands stood there with a notepad, navy blue purse on her shoulder, and held a cup of coffee in her hand. She wore a business-casual, high-waisted slacks and a polyester red blouse.

He cleared his throat and nodded, saying nonchalantly. “Miss Sands, how are you?”

“I'm very well, thank you.” She raised her dark eyebrows. “How about you?

“Uh,” he shook his head, “honestly... I've been better.”

She paused, waiting for him to offer her to sit down, she cleared her throat. “Civil, are we?”

He frowned, then waved his hand toward the empty chair in front of him.

“Thank you.” She sat down, setting down her notebook and purse on the floor beside her. “Well, I expected you to come to my office and apologize for the way you reacted over the newspaper article. You never did.”

He tilted his head down, turning his eyes up to look at her. “You told me never to come back to your office again.”

“No, I didn't really mean it. I just meant don't ever come barging in like you did.”

He looked away from her chuckling, sarcastically. “So, it's one of those... women expect men to 'read in between the lines' type of scenarios, is it?” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I guess, kind of.”

He sat up straighter in his chair. “Miss Sands-”

“Please, call me Lana.”

“Lana, I want you to know that I'm sorry for barging into your office.”

“You don't sound like you mean it, Bruce.” She pursed her lips.

“ _Tut_ , I do, okay?"

“Whatever happened to the charming, flirting, handsome man, I first met?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I don't know. I wasn't aware there was one.”

She grinned, “oh, there sure was. I have to admit... you made me blush multiple times. You, in your towel was quite the sight to behold.” She giggled.

He looked embarrassed as he stared down into his mug and shook his head. “Yeah, that was entirely inappropriate of me.”

“No, no. It was quite cute, I thought.” She smiled.

He met her eye contact, and grinned slightly. “What are we, in high school again?”

She laughed. “You've sure changed since high school.”

“You haven't.” He took a sip of his coffee and stared at her.

“What do you mean, how was I in high school? I hardly remember now.”

“Well, a little tom-boyish, a little infuriating and a whole lot of annoying.”

“What?” She reached over the table to playfully punch him in the shoulder as she laughed.

He grinned, “how was I?”

“You were very shy, but all the girls had secret crushes on you. I should know, I was one of them.”

He looked at her more seriously. “How was Tommy Elliot?”

“Uh...” she paused to answer thoughtfully. “He was kind of a bad boy, you know. A little bit of a bully, but was really smart, though as he was the top of our class. He also was quite the player, and played with a lot of girl's hearts, including one of my friend's.”

“Carla.”

“Yes. You remember her?”

“Of course I remember Carla.” He thought about how Carla was the girl who took his virginity. “You never forget your first.”

She looked surprised. “You and Carla?”

He shrugged.

“I didn't know that.”

“A lot of things happened in high school, I tell yuh.”

She thought for a moment as she stared at him. “Bruce?”

He bit his bottom lip, then looked at her.

“Would- would you want to try for that second date?”

He looked surprised. “Uh,” he nodded, “sure. Why not? That is, if you swear not to write anymore stories on me or Tommy.”

She smiled, “then a date, it is.”

 


	18. The Interrupted Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on his second date with Lana, Ramona intrudes.

 

It was the night of Tommy and Lana's agreed dinner date at a nice restaurant downtown New York City. They had already finished their meal when Tommy bumped into Ramona in the hallway from the bathroom. She fell against him, dramatically, laying a hand in the center of his chest. “Oh, excuse me, S _eñor_.” She almost hadn't noticed it was him until she looked up. “Bruce? My, my. What a coincidence. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He said with a roughness to his voice while he looked at her sternly.

She grinned, “oh, I be just finishing up mi dinner. _Muy delicioso_.” She paused, licking her red painted, plump bottom lip. “Just like you, darling. Mm. What a handsome _hombre_ you look tonight.”

He rolled his eyes, “excuse me. I have someone waiting.” He tried to brush past her.

“Wait, darling.” She pressed her hand against his chest firmly to keep him put.

He glared down at her.

“Darling, stop looking at me like that... I might start to think you want to eat me up.” She giggled.

 

 

She stared at him, then leaned into him in order to give him a long kiss, salivary sounds loudly audible as she pulled back to look at him. He glanced at her dark brown eyes for a second and then down at her soft, red lips until both of them, at the same time, leaned in together in a kiss again. Eyes closed as their mouths started moving into a beginning of a make out. She stepped closer to him, pushing on his chest enough in order to make him press his back against the wall while he mouthed her consistently, and not stopping for a second.

She eventually paused to stare at him, pulling back an inch and breathing in his warm, whiskey tainted breath. “Darling, mm, you be drinking?”

“Are you...heh, kidding? I've been buzzed for weeks.” He went on her neck, sucking roughly, making her grin and letting a small moan escape her lips from the tingling sensation.

“Oh, darling.” She slipped a hand down to his belt buckle, grabbing a hold of the leather strap, she sneakily slipped it out of the buckle. Once he realized that it was unbuckled, he abruptly pushed her away as he looked down to quickly buckle up. He panted as he frowned at her. “No. Are you freakin' crazy?” He glanced around the empty hallway, hearing dinner guests chattering, clanging of silverware and glasses right on the other side of the wall. He straightened his creased shirt as he licked his lips, shaking his head. He gave her a glare and then turned as he was about to leave.

“Darling, wait...” she grabbed a hold of his forearm as she pulled out a handkerchief from her purse. “You do not want you date to see you were, uh, making out with another woman, do you?”

His eyes grew large as he gasped.

“No worries.” She licked a corner of her handkerchief that she had snatched from inside her purse. She brought it to his jawbone, part of his cheek, and the corners of his mouth. They held eye contact as she slowly removed the lipstick directly from his lips.

“You done?” He asked impatiently as he stared at her.

“ _Si_.” She then watched him leave as she sighed and leaned against the wall. Pulling out her compact mirror from her purse, she reapplied her red lipstick then marveled at her reflection with a giggle and a lip smacking kiss in the mirror.

 

 

~:~

 

“What took you?” Lana asked, concernedly as he regained his seat across from her in the booth.

He looked away from her, ashamedly. “Uh, I ran into someone I knew in the hall. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, no worries. But, I went ahead and ordered you a decaf coffee to top off your dinner.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Well, well.” Came Ramona's voice as she suddenly appeared in front of their booth.

“Ramona?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“Who's this?” asked Lana.

She smiled. “Ramona, I am. We use to be together.”

He chuckled, “Ramona, we were hardly ever _together._ ”

“Oh, darling, darling. You always lie... Can I join you?”

“Oh, uh... what about your date?” He widened his eyes at her.

“Date?” She giggled, “no, no. I eat alone. There be no date” She took her seat next to Tommy in the booth, making him scoot over towards the wall. “You don't mind, do you?” She looked at him.

He rolled his eyes, then looked at her. “Actually, I do. Lana and I-”

“No, no, Bruce. It's alright. I'd like to get to know someone who you used to date.”

“But, we didn't- “ he brought his hand over his mouth as if to keep himself from talking as he rolled his eyes toward the wall.

“Hmm.” Ramona picked up his cup of coffee beside him and took a long sip. “Ah, that be good coffee, no?”

Lana scooted out of the booth. “I hope you'll excuse me. I'm going to go to the powder room for a moment. Be back in no time.” She took along her cute little black handbag, got to her feet and left the table.

Ramona sighed with content as she slipped her hand under the table to rest on his knee.

He squirmed. “Stop it.”

“Oh, but darling.” She reached her hand up his thigh, toward his groin and brushed it across his lap.

He licked his bottom lip as he pushed her hand quickly away. “Damn it, stop.”

She smirked. “Oh, Bruce. You want me, tonight, no?”

He frowned. “No. I don't, actually.”

She scooted closer to him, “really?”

“Really.”

 

The waiter appeared at the table, “can I get anyone at this table anything else?”

“ _Si_ , I would like a large bottle of vodka, _por favor y_ two glasses.” She said staring at Tommy, mischievously.

“Coming up, Miss.” The waiter disappeared.

“You're wanting to get me drunk, aren't you?”

She smiled, “why do you say that, darling?”

“Because you're hoping to get lucky like you did last time. Ramona, we're in a restaurant. Use some common sense. Nothing's going to happen.”

“That's what _you_ think.” She giggled. “That didn't stop you from eating my mouth out in the hallway. Besides, you _performed_ so well last time you were... as they say, under the influence.” She giggled, rubbing up and down his thigh under the table. “It's not every day I climax _twice_ in one night, darling.”

He stared at her, pushing her hand off of him again. “Are you sure this much sex is good for you in your condition?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her midsection.

She broke into a mischievous grin as Lana, at that moment, returned to the table before she could answer.

“So...” She sat down as the waiter set down the bottle of vodka and the two glasses. “Oh? Some vodka?” She questioned. “But only two glasses?”

“ _Lo siento, chica_. Did you want some?”

“Uh, no.” She shook her head as she picked up her full glass of wine, “I'll be happy with my wine, thanks.”

“Oh, good.” Ramona unscrewed the lid to pour her and Tommy their shot glasses. She pushed one toward Tommy.

He was almost trembling with alcohol withdrawal as he quietly stared at the shot she offered him.

Ramona picked up her glass and raised it, beckoning him to indulge.

He bit his bottom lip and picked up the shot, the two held eye contact as they clanged their glasses together and both took down the shots at the same time.

Lana gulped down half of her wine as she watched them going for another round, pouring a second shot each and downing it again. She looked a little jealous of Ramona and Tommy's drinking together. Neither one of them were paying attention to her presence as they obviously seemed very preoccupied with each other, almost as if they were in a drinking contest in some bar.

 

Ramona stood up from the table, “Oh, I have to use the little _chica's_ room. Excuse me.” She brushed any wrinkles that had gathered around her pregnant midsection.

Lana noticed, “are you pregnant, Ramona?”

“Oh, si. You not know?”

“No. Congratulations! Who's the lucky father?”

She giggled. “Some man, who I'm in love with his body, mind and soul.” She looked at Tommy and grinned. “But, especially his _body_.”

Tommy chuckled, glancing away from her as he downed another shot.

As soon as Ramona, drunkenly, stumbled away from the table, Lana said, “should she really be drinking?”

He laughed, “no. I told her not to.” He shrugged while lowering his voice deeply and shaking he head, “she never listens to me.”

She looked at him, suspiciously. “You're... not the father, are you?”

“What?” He chuckled nervously, “n-nooo. Come on, relax and have another drink. Try some of this.” He poured her a glass of vodka from his cup and slid it across the table towards her as he watched her.

She stared at him in return as she retrieved the glass from him and skeptically took down the shot.

Once Ramona returned, an hour went by with the three chatting and laughing about sweet nothings of consequence as they all got wasted.

 

Lana stood up, dizzily. “I think we better get going, Bruce.”

Ramona laughed drunkenly. “Oh, I guess you ' _better_ ' get going before this turns into a threesome.”

Tommy and Lana locked eyes simultaneously and he shook his head with a reserved laugh. “Oh my god, Ramona.”

“No worry about me getting home, Bruce. _Mi_ driver be waiting in the entry right now.” She said, referring to the man standing there, looking at her from across the room.

“Good. I wasn't planning on taking you home.” He mumbled under his breath.

Lana caught what he said and giggled a little.

Ramona looked up at him, smiled and then leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek before making her exit.

“That's awfully uncaring of a pregnant lady, Bruce. But I must admit, her inviting herself to sit in on our date together. I don't feel too bad about it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I shouldn't have let her order that bottle of vodka.”

“No, it's okay. I feel fine. A little drunk, maybe, but nothing an aspirin and a tall glass of water won't cure in the morning.”

“Let's get a cab.” He placed a hand in the small of her back as he led her through the restaurant and to the front door.

They stepped outside in the warm summer night as taxis and cars drove past.

 

~:~

 

Once they got a taxi vehicle to pull over, they got in and buckled up.

It was silent for most of the drive as they both stared out opposite windows, until she said, “I know this isn't really any of my business, but, on our first date, didn't you say that you abstained from alcohol because of your past addictions?” She looked at him, concernedly.

He licked his bottom lip, looked at her in the dark with just the passing street lights to give any light. He grabbed her hand that was sitting on her lap, as he rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “I... have been struggling.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Well, to me, it looked like it was peer pressure. Ramona was practically shoving it down your throat.”

“It- it wasn't.” He let go of her hand as they arrived at her condominium and the driver parked on the side of the street. “Well, it looks like we're here.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and he jumped out of the car to open the taxi door for her. She smiled, “oh, thanks.” She paused as she looked at him. “Would you mind walking me to my door?”

“Uh...” he looked toward the driver, “wait five minutes, please.”

The driver nodded.

Tommy placed his hand in the small of her back again as he led her to her door. She just about tripped in her heels on the edge of the stone walkway, but he quickly caught her from falling.

“Oh, geeze. Thanks. I'm a little too tipsy, I think.” She got to the door as she fumbled for her keys inside of her little purse, then unlocked her door, and opened it partway.

They called each other's names simultaneously.

He grinned, “you go first.”

“N-no. You.”

“Uh, I'm sorry about tonight. It wasn't... the best.”

She smiled, “that's because it wasn't very private or intimate towards the end.”

He chuckled, “yeah.”

“There's no reason to put an end to it quite yet, though.” She said suggestively with her glimmering eyes in the night.

He hesitated in thought as he remembered how she was in high school. The little tomboy, aggressively pushing him into walls when he frustrated her enough with his adolescent kissing faces aimed toward her in the school hallways all those years ago. He imagined being with her might be something like that. A release of tension, frustration and hard-felt aggression, and it would feel good for a fleeting moment. But, no. That would ruin those memories, wouldn't it? After all, she didn't even have a clue that he was really Tommy Elliot. The boy who would endlessly tease and taunt her all throughout high school, and until graduation.

“How 'bout we call it a night, Lana.”

She stood there in shock, watching him walking down and getting back inside the cab. Was she not obvious enough as to what she wanted, or was she actually and simply just rejected right now?

 


	19. The Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lana comes over and Tommy makes a threat
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Hey guys, I can't just go on forever, so this story is coming to its close fairly soon. I can't believe I'm already on chapter 20! This is a long one. I hope you all have enjoyed Part 3 to my "Hush" series, although Tommy's alter ego Hush never appears in my story, lol... kind of ironic. I meant to include him in the beginning, but I guess I just got swept away and distracted with the relationship and drama instead, I hope you guys haven't minded that. ;-)  
> ~Anyway, I was wondering if any of you have a "ship" or a vote for who you want to end up with who in the very end (coming very soon), leave your thoughts in the comments below. If you think Tommy should just die alone and get arrested, let me know. He kind of deserves it, doesn't he? lol. Thanks and enjoy! :-)

He stood up and crossed his arms, acknowledging her presence with a nod of the head.

“Bruce?”

“Lana, what, uh, brings you here this afternoon?”

“I'll be in the other room.” Susan quietly made her retreat into the bedroom, leaving the two alone.

“I- I wanted to set a few things straight.”

“Oh?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “Here, have a seat.” He gestured toward the couch.

She came over and the two sat down together. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands together. He followed suit and copied her body language as he leaned forward to look at her face.

“The other night, on our date...”

“Yeah?”

“Something happened.”

“I know. I'm sorry Ramona bugged in, she-”

“No. It's not her.”

He frowned, keeping his eyes on her, “then,what is it?”

“When we were both half drunk... and um,” she sighed, “I offered for you to come in, but... you so subtly declined.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the ground.

“What I want to know is... why? I thought- I thought we liked each other.”

“No, no. I do like you... a lot.” He grabbed her hands in his as he nodded reassuringly.

“Then what seemed to have been the problem the other night?”

“N-no problem.”

“Then, why don't you kiss me right now?”

They stared at each for a moment and then, both leaned into a long kiss. They pulled away eventually as they thought for a moment in complete silence. He brought a hand behind her neck, scraping the scalp with his fingers as he pulled her face toward him again. He cocked his head and began mouthing her lips slowly to start. It was not a fast paced make out which was usually the case with Ramona, because that was _her_ style... rough, hard and fast. He didn't know what Lana's was yet, and some women he knew would get turned off if he escalated too quickly and aggressively.

She seemed to be enjoying it as she started rubbing his back with her free hand. He, himself, most definitely appreciated her feminine touch on his hard, shapely back muscles as it reminded him of the many instances of past love making. The pleasurable flashbacks gave him a motivation to want to move faster as he started mouthing her lips harder. He was trying so desperately to get the feelings going that he almost forgot in the process, that it was actually Lana Sands, the tomboy from high school, who was, at the moment, his make out partner. No matter how passionate he made it on his end, she seemed to be, for some unknown reason, continuing to kiss at the same slow pace.

“Mm.” She audibly released a feminine exhale as he then decided to go down onto her neck, making her squeeze his shoulder muscle from the sensation of his mouth on the sensitive areas of her neck. After awhile, she repaid the pleasure and started kissing down on _his_ neck while he tangled a hand inside her dark brown wavy hair as he rested his head on the back of the couch. “Mm... M-maybe-” he sighed, “um, we should just be friends.”

“What?” She stopped, and leaned back to stare at him in close proximity to her as her eyes went partly cross-eyed. “Why? What did I do wrong?”

He gulped, “n-nothing. It's just because...” he looked from her lips to her eyes, “it's- um-” He licked his bottom lip as he took in any left over saliva of hers laying on the surface of his lips. “I'm not ready for a relationship just yet.” He watched her for a reaction.

“What?”

“I'm sorry, honey. I like you. Really I do. And the dates we had together were great, you know, but-”

“Hang on. You're actually breaking up with me _now_? During our first ever make out?”

He raised his eyebrows, “maybe.”

“What am I supposed to do? I thought this thing we had was going well!” She stood up from the couch. “What turned you off? What? You want me to sit on your lap or get down on my hands and knees?”

“Would you?” He smirked.

She frowned, “Uh, nooo.”

“Mm. I love it when you're angry.”

She looked insulted.

“And I _would_ also like it if you'd so kindly pass me the brandy, honey.” He gestured toward the bottle sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“You're a jerk!”

He chuckled as he leaned forward and grabbed the brandy himself, then took a swallow. “No. You, women, just can't handle rejection.”

“Sure. So, I suppose you, yourself, have never been rejected before?”

He paused to think for a moment, then shook his head, pouting his lips. “Not that I can think of, no.” He smiled.

She glared at him. “You must think you're some hot stuff, don't you?”

He laughed, taking another gulp of the alcohol.

She looked at him, heavily annoyed with his carefree nature, aggravating her that he seemed to be enjoying making her upset by his thoughtless attitude. She felt so angry that she went up and pushed him hard in the chest.

He grabbed a hold of her upper arm, holding her firmly in place as he turned serious. “I wouldn't get physical if I were you.” His eyes followed his hand, sliding down the length of her arm and to her wrist where he paused. He then brought her limp hand to his mouth as he turned his mysterious eyes up to look at her face while he bit softly onto the top of her thumb's knuckle.

She opened her mouth partly as her heart rate increased because of what he was doing and more importantly, the way he looked at her made her feel strangely enkindled.

He lowered her hand out of his mouth as he looked down at it and then grinned.

She gulped, retracting her hand and quickly walked away from him.

“Look at you. So sexually repressed.”

“Excuse me?” She turned around to look at him.

He chuckled as he stood up from the couch and came toward her. “It's why you're so angry all the time.”

“What? I'm not angry.”

“Uh, yeah, you are.”

She gulped anxiously.

“I could sense it in the way you kissed. Soooo... mm, controlled, and trying desperately not to _lose_ that control.”

She looked utterly surprised, “you could tell all of that from a kiss?”

“Mm, hm.” He took another swallow of his brandy. “Desperately wanting a release, but you won't let yourself go in order to achieve it.” He paused as he stared at her. “So, you want to be friends or not?”

She shook her head. “Ha! Talk about sexual repression. You only want to be my friend. Nothing else?”

He shrugged. “Okay. No one's forcing anyone to talk to anyone again if they don't want to.” He turned to walk away, but she grabbed a hold of his elbow, turning him back around.

“Sure. We can be friends.” She raised her dark eyebrows, then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “That is, if you think you can repress _yourself,_ 'honey'.”

At that, he leaned forward, kissing the side of her neck before she could pull away. She gasped with surprise as she quickly looked at him.

He grinned while taking another mouthful of his intoxicant. “Where's Susan? We only have a couple rooms in this place. She couldn't have gone far.”

She frowned and crossed her arms. “H-how should I know?”

He headed for the bedroom, drinking along the way, until he went inside.

 

Susan came out ten seconds later to see Lana still standing there, uncomfortably alone. “I didn't want to come out, in fear of walking in on you two 'love birds' getting cozy.”

Lana shook her head, “don't worry. You won't have to ever worry about _that_ again.”

“What?” Susan looked completely shocked.

“It's- It's over between us.”

A wave of relief showed on her fair face. “W-what happened? That is, if you don't mind my asking.”

“He just-” she shook her head, sadly. “I don't understand. I thought we were doing fine, getting to know each other and-”

“Let me let you in on a little secret, Lana...”

She looked intrigued with large eyes.

“He likes to play games with women, and then reject them when they're wanting more from the relationship. It keeps his ego satisfied, I guess... knowing that he can have complete control over them and end their relationship at the snap of his fingers, while leaving the woman dissatisfied and wanting him, desperately, even more.”

“That's exactly what it seems like.” Lana's eyes lit up with realization. “It all makes sense now.”

“You know what? Maybe we should play a game with _him_.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't you think it's time we got him sobered up?”

Lana raised her eyebrows. “I'm listening...”

 

~:~

 

“Come on, honey, please.” He sounded desperately winded. “I'll sleep with you if you'll give it to me.”

Susan laughed with amusement at his desperation. “Wow. You're trying to bribe me now, Tommy.”

“Please.” He scooted closer to her, rubbing her arm and breathing down her neck while he lowered his voice seductively. “I'll make you feel so good that you won't even care if I'm drinking while laying beside you.”

“Heh. Maybe I would have fallen for that one the other night. But, not this time.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and stood up to distance herself from him. “I care about getting you sober more than I care about sleeping with you. Just how _easy_ do you think I am?”

“Give me the bottle, damn it!” He suddenly went from a soft, manipulating voice to an angry, more menacing one.

“Sorry. That's not going to happen.”

“Then, I'll just go to the store and get one myself.” He jumped up from off the couch and ran to the door. He tried to open it to find it was padlocked with a thick chain, unbreakable without some sharp and large pliers which he had none lying around.

He slammed the door shut, turning around to see Lana across the room, crossing her arms with a smirk. “That's not going to happen either, I'm afraid.”

He glared at her. “So, I'm at house arrest alone with you two during a withdrawal from hell?!”

The women exchanged a raise of eyebrows at each other.

He chuckled, angrily. “You do realize I could kill you two, right?”

Susan gulped, thinking he might actually be serious as she glanced at Lana, who didn't look the least impressed or swayed by his threat.


	20. The Last Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan and Lana keep Tommy under "alcoholic" -house-arrest, and then a huge elephant-in-the-room is finally verbalized between a certain party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long for me to get out there. (Busy) Thanks for sticking with me and the story, "Hush: The Overtaking" and enjoy chapter 20, "The Last Bottle"... not the last chapter yet, though. ;-)

 

Tommy secretly shot Ramona a text, begging for her to bring over a bottle of whiskey. He didn't go into much detail of his current _interesting_ situation, just that he was unable to leave his apartment.

 

Ramona lingered outside the chained, padlocked door. “Aquí está tu espíritu, darling. Just like you ask.”

He stared at the beautiful sight of the bottle through the door that she held in her hand. “Can't you just speak fluent English for once and stop spewing your Spanish nonsense?”

She immediately frowned at his rudeness.

He reached his hand through the jarred door and lowered his voice deeply. “Just give it to me, Ramona.”

She held the bottle closer to her body and outside of his reach as she smiled. “The bottle or something else, darling?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes and glanced behind him to make sure no one was coming. “Quickly!”

She stepped closer to the door, putting her face up to it. “First, give me tongue, darling.”

“Right now?” He sighed with anxiety, but then quickly moved his face toward the space in the chained door. She opened her mouth as he slipped his tongue in and gave her a good slobbery mouthing for a few seconds. He leaned back, and she grinned while finally handing him the bottle through the door. He only could relish the accomplishment of finally holding his prize in his hand for a second. Susan sneaked in behind him and snatched it out of his hands before he realized she was there.

“Shit! Susan!”

She immediately ran with the bottle as fast she could, going into the bedroom, slamming it shut and then locking it behind her.

He went after her, banging on the door to make her let him in. “Susan! Give it back, damn it!”

“No!”

“You have no right to keep it from me!”

Lana came behind him quietly.

He rested his forehead up against the door now and took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to control the anger that was raging inside of him. “Just open the damn door.” He anguished almost in a whisper.

Lana gulped, “we're only trying to help you.”

He spun around quickly at the sound of her voice. “Can you please make her open up?”

She frowned, concernedly and shook her head. “No.”

He sighed, and clenched his jaw while shaking his head in frustration. “I am _sick_ of you two.” He started for Lana, and grabbed a hold of her arms tightly.

She gasped, “ow, let go of me, Bruce!”

At the sound of the attack, Susan quickly opened the door to come to the woman's rescue. “Let go of her now!”

He released the woman and smirked as he turned to face Susan. “I knew that would get you.”

Susan pursed her lips, raising her chin up confidently. “If you want to take it out on someone, take it out on me. Leave Lana alone.”

“Okay, then. Let me inside.” He nodded toward the now open door.

“Fine. Come on in.” She stared at him seriously.

 

~:~

 

When Tommy came into the room with Susan, he locked it from behind.

Susan felt a slight fear starting to creep into her consciousness, wondering why he would lock the door. Was he going to harm her? Should she just give up the bottle? Keeping it from him wasn't worth her life.

 

“Where is it, Susan?”

“W-what?” She tried to keep her voice from quivering.

He cocked his head and glared at her. “The bottle.”

“I hid it.”

“Yes, I noticed, genius. Where?”

“I can't believe you, Tommy. You contacted Ramona so that she could sneak you a bottle?”

“So?”

“Why are you still in contact with her anyway?”

He was quiet for a moment, staring down at the ground. “Didn't you ever wonder where I had gone to for a couple hours on the night of that party?”

“Well, yes, actually. Where _did_ you go?”

“Ramona and I were upstairs,” he paused, pursing his lips, “screwing each other.”

“What?” Her throat immediately clogged, making it hard to swallow. “W-why would you do that?”

“Because, maybe I _wanted_ to. Haven't you ever considered that?”

“B-but- but with her... of _all_ people?”

“So, what? Sex with Ramona is way better than any sex I've ever gotten with _you_.”

“Listen to yourself. How could you _do_ this to me?”

He chuckled mockingly. “ _Do_ this to you. Susan, I haven't _done_ anything _to_ you since about a year now.”

Her mouth shot open from his vulgarity.

“What? It's true. You think I'm supposed to be loyal to you or something? News flash, we were never together, Susan.”

“I know that.” She stuck her chin in the air, trying to keep from looking vulnerable and weak.

“The reason we made out on the couch that night was because I was _drunk_ and _out of... my... mind!_ ” He emphasized his last few words to hurt her as he tried to get his point across that he wouldn't have done it if he was sober.

“Oh, yeah. Just like you wouldn't have gotten on top of me, pinned me down on the couch and almost harmed me when I provoked you that one day if you were sober?”

He stared at her. “But, I didn't _do_ anything.”

“You _almost_ did. Can't you see, the alcohol made you become a darker version of yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he looked away from her.

She frowned, “listen to me, Tommy.”

“No, _you_ listen.” He lowered his voice as he stepped closer to her, “I'm only going to ask one last time. Where's the damn bottle, Susan?”

“Tommy, you need help. I can't just stand by and see you drink yourself to death.”

 

She pursed her lips and sighed. “Fine.” She walked over to the bed, retrieving the bottle of whiskey from behind a pillow on the bed. She came back to him and showed him how much was left in it. It was only one-fifth full with the golden hued liquid.

“What the-”

“I began dumping it out into the bathroom sink.”

He opened his mouth in shock of the lengths she went to of dumping out expensive whiskey just so he couldn't get a hold of it and drink it. He tightened his lips in frustration, “then why leave just a small amount in the bottle?”

She smirked, unscrewing the lid, “so, I can do this,” she jerked the bottle up to his face, splashing him with the alcoholic liquid.

 

~:~

 

Two weeks had passed and Tommy gave Susan undoubtedly, cruel silent treatment when at home. He tried to be gone from the apartment as much as possible. Susan was suspicious he may be out drinking, but he seemed to come home sober as far as she could tell. He did sleep on the couch, surprisingly. She knew he could easily kick her out of his place and reclaim his queen sized bed, but he didn't, he just ignored her, but let her stay for some reason unknown to her.

One morning, she woke up and saw that he was gone as usual. She had had enough of this silent treatment from him. She needed to desperately confront him, apologize, but let him know she was only trying to help him recover, not to torture him. She texted him, as she felt nervous, and didn't want to hear his reaction over the phone, in case he blew up and yelled at her.

'Hey Tommy, I was wondering if we could talk about this at the Sunrise Cafe? Please?'

To which he replied ten minutes later with a short, 'Fine'.

 

She was the first to arrive at the cafe. She ordered a plain coffee and took a seat at a booth. He kept her waiting fifteen minutes until he finally showed up. She figured he probably was outside contemplating even coming in. She felt worried that he preferred to hold on to his grudge rather than see things from her point of view and forgive her like a reasonable human being.

 

He found her booth while holding a cup of black coffee as he looked at her blankly. He was wearing a black newsboys cap to match his black, long wool coat that was typical in the cold New York city streets.

She noticed, despite his sour attitude, how handsome he looked in the color black as she jumped up and immediately hugged him, tightly. “How are you?” Her voice was higher than usual, but filled with concern. For a fleeting moment she was reminded of past embraces, ones that were loving, but this one... she could sense the tension and how he must have been screaming inside to get away.

He didn't answer as he placed his free hand in the small of her back for a couple seconds and then pushed her gently away by the shoulder to look at her face as he frowned.

“Well, are you sober?”

He moved to the table and clanged his porcelain mug down then he sat down, passive-aggressively stating, “yes.” He watched her with a straight expression as she reclaimed her seat across from him.

“Come on, Tommy, don't lie to me.”

“I'm telling you the truth, honest. I've been sober for two weeks now.”

She looked at him, doubtfully. “Let me smell your breath.”

“What?”

“Knowing you, I know you couldn't go more than twelve hours without a drink or two.” She stood up from the table and went over to his side. “Have you taken a sip of your coffee yet?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He held his breath.

She bent over, placing a hand on his shoulder to balance herself. “Come on, breathe out.”

He exhaled as she immediately sniffed the air that came out.

She paused for a moment in thought, “okay. I believe you're clean.”

He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, “I told you.” He then glanced down at her lips before she moved away from him to reclaim her seat.

“Well, you can't blame me for being skeptical. You're not exactly someone who never lies, Tommy.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I must say, I'm amazed at your willpower. I know it must've been hard.”

“Well, you know, it was only hell.”

She hesitated to laugh or feel sympathy, as she didn't know if he was trying to entice a chuckle from a dry-humored joke or just expressing himself ironically.

He finally broke the silence. “But, it's not so bad anymore. The physical withdrawals are long gone, but the psychological... ah, remain.”

“They're still there?”

“Currently, yes. We'll see if that subsides, that is, if it ever will.” He looked down into his mug.

“Well,” she reached over the table to give his shoulder a squeeze. “I'm proud of your sobriety... and I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry I made you go cold turkey and go through the withdrawals that you did.”

He continued to stare down, to avoid looking at her. “I'm not one for accepting apologies.”

She frowned, “come on, Tommy. Stop being like this.”

His eyes shot up quickly. “Like what?”

“You won't accept my apology? When you've acted like such a jerk for the longest time while you were on your _drinking_ binge. Not once did you ever apologize for the way you treated me, and everyone else. You should at least pay Lana a visit and apologize.”

“Who?”

“Lana. Don't tell me you've moved on and forgotten about her already.”

“Oh, yeah. _Her_.” He leaned back in his chair, spreading his knees apart, shaking his head with disapproval. “Come on, please. I didn't treat you or her in any which way. You're delusional as hell.”

“Oh, come on, _yourself_ , and own up to your mistakes for once in your life.”

He stared at her, pursing his lips tightly as if to keep himself from saying anymore, as he took in a deep breath and released a heavy sigh. He then looked down at his white porcelain mug and traced his thumb inside the loop of the handle.

Susan noticed his solemn face. “Come on, maybe you need to get your mind off of things. Relax and relieve some of that stress and tension. And knowing you, you're always uptight.”

“Oh, yeah? And how might I relieve this tension you speak of?” He sighed heavily again, leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

She gulped, as his mellow expression and eye contact stirred her emotions up. “Um, I don't know. What's something you would you _like_ to do?”

“Drink.”

“Tommy-”

“I'm kidding. Well, half kidding.”

She smiled slightly at his finally not looking completely serious and depressed.

“But, you know, _tension_ is kind of the reason I started drinking in the first place. Now, without it as a crutch... I must adjust.” He sighed once again.

“Um, am I- um, cause- a _cause_ of any of that tension?” She gulped with nervousness.

He looked down into his mug again, holding it inside his palm. “In a way, yes.”

“Sexual tension?”

His eyes shot up to look at her with surprised expression. Had she really just _spoken_ the  unspoken-elephant in the room at last? “Um...” he licked his bottom lip in thought as he looked down and a slight smile came to his face, “you could say I have that with every female I encounter.”

She frowned, cocking her head.

He chuckled, “come on, I'm kidding.”

“Sure you are.” She became more stern. “Quit kidding and tell me honestly, do you think we have sexual tension or not?”

“Okay, fine.” He nodded slowly, “sure we do. So?”

“Well?”

He stared at her a moment in silence, then when things got too uncomfortable, he glanced around the cafe at the other customers. “Uh, look... I gotta go, Susan.” He started to sit up as he was about to rise, but she quickly reached across the table to lay her hand on top of his.

“Wait.”

He stopped.

“Tommy, why are you... _scared_ of a relationship?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “I'm not.”

“Then why the disinterest with getting any closer to me?”

“Susan, some, uh... physical attraction may have occurred in the past between us, but, that's just it... lust. It didn't mean anything. We can't ever go back there... because... I'll never be in love with you.”

“Fine.”

He stared at her with astonishment of her not breaking down and crying like he expected.

“What? Did you think I was in love with _you_? Guess what, I'm not.”

He raised his eyebrows as he leaned over the table to get closer to her. “Oh, really. Then why have you stayed with me for all this time? And don't tell me it's a money issue. I know you have family who would gladly have you.”

She stared at his lips for a few seconds as she thought of an answer. “Well, any reason I _did_ have is no longer valid. I'm leaving today. That's kind of... uh, what I wanted to talk to you about.” She made up her excuse on the top of her head, and hoping he couldn't see right through her.

“Really?” He became completely confused.

“Y-yes... yes.” she spoke with more confidence as she raised her chin in the air. “Well, I better get a move on... I've got a lot of packing to do.” She stood up from her chair, grabbed her burgundy red purse and place it on her shoulder. “Talk to you some other time, Mr. Elliot.”

He stood up and frowned. “Mr. Elliot? Susan...” he came to place a hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him. “Come on, what are you doing?”

“Didn't you hear me? I'm moving out.”

He gazed at her with disbelief.

 

 


	21. "Try and Stop Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Susan goes back to the apartment to pack her things as she threatens to leave for good.  
> Later, Ramona stops by to discuss future plans for the baby.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> WARNING: Mentions of rape, may offend

Susan had left Sunrise cafe to go back to Tommy's apartment and pack her things. Tommy spent a good thirty minutes, contemplating if he should go after her, because he didn't want to appear too attached. He finally decided to follow her home. He arrived, taking off his cap and black wool coat and hung it on the coat rack in the entry. He saw that the bedroom light was on and heard Susan making subtle noises of removing garments from hangers. From inside the bedroom, she heard him clank a glass down on the counter and knew that he was home. He went into the bedroom and stood in the doorway quietly.

She sensed his presence at the doorway as she spoke to him without turning around. "Come to make sure I'm leaving?"

He frowned as he stared at her open suitcase, which was almost completely full now with her clothes. "Susan, what are you doing?" He asked concernedly.

"I told you at the cafe, I'm finally leaving. You shouldn't be obligated to support me, I don't care how much money you have in your accounts." She placed another shirt folded inside, then turned to face him, "after all, we're only friends, right?"

He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at her. "Susan, I-"

"Yes?" She turned back to casually fold another shirt and place it on top of the last one.

"About what I said..."

"What? The part where you said that you'll never be in love with me?"

"Yes. I want you to know that it's not your fault. It's mine. I just-"

"You just what?" She roughly threw a t-shirt into the suitcase, sounding as a horse whip as she then swiftly turned to face him with stern, pursed lips.

He gazed at her curiously, feeling the tension beginning to rise as he paused to think of what to say while trying to gulp away his emotions. "I've told you in the past, remember? Any problems we have in our relationship is not of you... it's of me. I don't feel the same way other people do. I don't know how to."

She frowned, "is this about your parent's abuse?"

"Well, I suppose." He shook his head with a frown. "No. I'm- I'm not blaming them. Not like I used to. I realize the way my life has turned out is of my own doing. I can't go on blaming my dead parents. Any resentment I had for them was relieved when they died."

A wave of compassion flooded over her for a second, until she remembered his sneaky fox like ways of manipulation through trying to control her emotions. She shook her head, "you still don't love me, so. Please, let me finish up packing here." She folded up her last pair of blue jeans and folded it inside the suitcase. "Heh, you must've experienced immense pleasure when you cut the brakes of your father's car and smuggled your sick mother to death with a pillow."

He looked at her with appalled expression. "Susan, I-"

She closed down the suitcase lid with a sounding thump and reached for the zipper.

He swatted her hand away from the suitcase zipper as he then grabbed a hold of her arm tightly. "No. You're not leaving, Susan."

"Try and stop me." She yanked her arm out of his grasp and shoved him onto the bed violently. He landed with a huge thud onto his side, but quickly sat up to look at her. She paused to meet his gaze. He looked both surprised and turned on by the forceful shove she gave him.

He licked his bottom lip and sat there trying to recover his breath. "That was quite... rough, Susan."

She smiled slightly. "It was meant to be..." she paused mid-sentence, noticing the intrigued look in his eyes, which in turn motivated her to make a point of saying his name very meaningfully, "Tommy... You want me to stay? Prove it to me."

He bit his bottom lip thoughtfully as he then looked down into his lap, he spoke slowly. "And... how might... I do that?"

"Hmm, I don't know. What do you think?" She placed her hands on her hips, then stepped toward him, lifting one knee and resting it on the bed beside the outside of his leg.

He gulped as he scanned her body before him and then gradually lifted his head up to look at her face.

She laid her hand on his chest as their vibes collided in unison. "I know what you're thinking.:

"Mm, 'kay."

A smirk rose to her soft lips as she lifted her other knee onto the bed, sitting her pelvis onto his lap. She moved into kiss him, her hands cradling the sides of his face.

After a long minute of making out, he jerked his head away, clearly out of breath. "Wait," his eyes went partly cross-eyed as he made strong eye contact. "Y-you don't really want to make things... _weird_ between us, do you?"

She continued to kiss his neck, scraping the back of his scalp with her nails, making him release subtle moans. She stopped sucking his neck to look at him. "And experience an intense moment of pleasure? Oh, yes I do. Besides..." her hand slid down to rub his thigh with purpose of arousal, "I'm leaving, remember?"

He felt greatly motivated to remove his shirt, and then he leaned back and began unbuckling his black belt. "Sure you are, honey."

 

~:~

 

Susan awoke the next morning. A bright smile came to her face while she stretched her arms and legs and let out a sigh of content. She immediately remembered the prior events of yesterday. She had threatened to leave Tommy for good and it made him finally, and at last realize that he didn't want to lose her. She sighed again happily as she turned over to feel him next to her. But, he wasn't there. She frowned, but tried to remain positive as she thought to herself, _he must be in the kitchen making me breakfast in bed. Never thought of him as a romantic. Would he do something that thoughtful for me?_ She sighed happily, bouncing off the bed and quickly got dressed. 

 

She frowned, going into the kitchen as she saw him from behind standing in front of the kitchen counter. He was holding a small glass and chugging it down with one swallow. She noticed he violently shuddered for a second and then set the glass down.

"Good morning, Tommy."

He flinched. "Uh, he-hey, Susan." He fumbled with a bottle on the counter, rearranging canisters in order to quickly place it behind them.

She frowned, noticing his odd behavior and nervousness as she came over to see what all of the fuss was about. She gasped, holding her mouth open in disbelief when she caught a glimpse of a whiskey bottle that he tried to cover with canisters. "Tommy? You lied to me. You told me you weren't drinking anymore!"

" _Ahem_ , okay... I meant, I'm not drinking _as_ much."

"Tommy, this has got to stop. You have an addiction. You need help. I mean, really _professional_ help."

He rolled his eyes, "come on, Susan. I have it under control. I've been slowly lessening my amount for two weeks now, until I can go completely off of it. That's how they safely do it in rehab centers, anyway."

She pursed her lips. "Stop making excuses. I don't think you realize the capacity of your intake, Tommy."

"Trust me." He stared at her seriously, "I'm fine."

She met his stare in return, wondering if he was telling her the truth.

A smirk came to his face as he bit his bottom lip, and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her pelvis against his as he lowered his voice seductively. "Come on, maybe you just need another round."

She couldn't help but smile, "another round at nine a.m.?"

"Mm," he began kissing her neck slowly.

She giggled, "what kind of libido do you think I have?"

He pulled back enough to study her carotid artery and ear in close proximity as he glanced down. "I don't know. Is it on par with mine?" He tried to go back in, but she pushed him lightly on the chest.

"Wait. Tell me honestly, when you slept with me last night... were you... sober?"

He licked his bottom lip in thought as he looked past her and into the open bedroom door where they had been the night before and performed their act of lust.

She frowned at his hesitation, "Tommy, you do remember what happened between us last night, right?"

He chuckled, " _yes_ , Susan." He quickly became agitated by her accusation, "I wasn't drunk, if that's what you mean... just a little buzzed maybe."

"Tommy!"

"Shh. Don't talk, Susan." He pulled her in again as he spread a hand to the base of her skull as he began once again mouthing her neck.

She let out a sigh mixed with both pleasure and frustration as she arched her neck to the side. "Tommy... we need to talk about this destructive behavior."

He pulled back to look her in the eye. "Well, thanks for killing the mood, Susan." He released her head and the hand on her back. "It was nice. We had fun. Now, we need to get back to normal, I presume."

"No, Tommy. That's not what I meant. I _want_ us to last this time. I just want us to be honest with each other."

He was without reply as he quietly began preparing the coffee pot beside them on the counter. "Ramona's stopping by to discuss the baby's future."

Susan frowned with disappointment, "oh."

 

~:~

 

Ramona stood by the window of the apartment. "Oh, darling. _Aqui_ come. Feel our baby kick. Feel the life inside me that be ours."

He stared at her midsection but stayed put in his tracks, as if he was afraid of the child.

"No look so nervous, darling. It will not bite. Come."

He slowly made his way over, and once he stood in front of her, she grabbed both of his hands, pulling him closer than what was needed for him to place his hands on her enlarged, eight month-along pregnant stomach.

He stared at her face closely as he felt her midsection by rubbing slightly.

"You feel that? He be kicking."

He frowned as he looked down. He wondered for a moment of when the child was conceived as all of the different sexual encounters they experienced together ran through his head. He pursed his lips in sudden anger as he retrieved his hands from her. "How can he live a normal life, Ramona? He was most likely conceived during-" he closed his eyes, "the most violent sex imaginable. How do you expect him to turn out, huh? Living with the likes of you and _your_ diseased family, who will undoubtedly assault him, or live with me and my messed up existence?"

She frowned, " _Mi familia_ be good people. They will not hurt our son."

"You know better than that."

"No, no. And darling, sex is sex. Violent or otherwise."

He chuckled, "you know if I wasn't such a bad person..." he paused, "wait, you know what, if our roles were reversed... can you honestly say, Ramona, that you'd condone coerced copulation, boarder-lining rape, as just sex?"

Susan came into the room at that moment, hearing the word coming out of Tommy's mouth to the horrid woman, making her troubled. "What are you guys talking about?"

Ramona smirked, "oh, we just talking about sex, that is all."

"What?" Susan immediately perked up like pipe of steam as she glared at the woman then quickly looked at Tommy to see what his defense was.

"No, Susan. It's not like that." He turned to Ramona and clenched his jaw, "Ramona, can you just shut your mouth off for once in your life?"

The woman giggled amusingly while placing both of her hands on her protruding belly. "Be careful how you talk to me, darling. Our child will hear _y_ learn bad habits."

He glanced at her midsection, then rolled his eyes. "You know, back to the child. We need to discuss our plans concerning him."

"Why, of course, that be why I come over, darling." She went over to the couch to take a seat.

Tommy glanced at Susan and gave her an insincere smile as he went to join Ramona on the couch.

"I'll... be in the other room." She made her retreat into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

 

Tommy turned toward Ramona, looking down at the ground while clasping his hands together. "Well, for starters. Realistically, neither one of us are fit to be parents."

She gasped, "speak for you self, darling. I be a good mama."

He looked at her with astonishment. "Come on, Ramona, be reasonable. You and I both know _no_ child should grow up in the environment of mobsters."

"We see, darling. I just know when you first see the child, you will want to keep him in you arms."

 

 

 


	22. Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: With Ramona at the apartment to supposedly discuss the child’s wellbeing, a blackout has Tommy worried about what happened when she was there

 

Tommy looked down and stared at Ramona's endowed midsection. He sighed as he stood up and went straight into the kitchen. He figured if he was going to be discussing _anything_ with the horrid woman, he would have to have at least a little buzz going.

Ramona looked concerned as she followed behind him slowly. "What be wrong, darling?"

He rearranged the canisters on the counter in order to reach for the bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a small amount and chugged it.

Ramona came behind him and hugged him from behind, her stomach keeping her arms from reaching around him entirely.

He paused and frowned, "Ramona?"

"Yes, sweet darling?"

"Stop."

She pursed her red painted lips into a pout as she released him, allowing him to turn around and look at her.

"Let's get something straight," he spoke sternly to her, "just because we conceived a child together, doesn't mean we have to be friendly."

She looked hurt by his meanness.

He stepped closer to her, "and it especially doesn't mean I have to _love_ the child. I'll pay whatever it is in child support. But, that's it." He turned back around and poured more whiskey into his glass. He turned around with it in hand, "excuse me." She backed up and he brushed past her and went into the living room again as she followed.

He stood by the window, looking out into the gloomy, wet and overcast afternoon.

She came up to him. "Give me a taste." She said, referring to his glass of whiskey.

He frowned at her, "No. You're with child. It could harm the baby."

"Oh, come on. One sip couldn't do much harm. _Por favor."_ She looked at him with her dark brown puppy-dog eyes and pouted her plump bottom lip.

He licked his lips, "fine." He brought it to her mouth, not letting her take it out of his hand, so she wrapped a hand over his to direct the rim of the glass to her mouth.

"Mm." She looked at him with a smile." _Gracias_."She touched his bicep as she stared up at him thoughtfully.

He gulped, "what?"

"You _muy_ handsome _hombre_ today, darling."

He took another swallow of the whiskey and shuddered slightly from the burning sensation going down his throat. "Maybe it's the amazing sex I had last night." He took another sip and smirked.

"Oh, with who? I don't recall being here last night." She smirked back at him.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the bedroom.

She gasped. "With her?"

"Mm."

"Goodness. I don't know _what_ you see in her. That annoying virgin!"

He chuckled and mumbled under his breath, "heh, hardly." He took another swallow of his drink.

She grinned, "buzzed is a good look on you, darling. It makes you... friendlier with me."

"Don't get any ideas." He took another mouthful.

"And what ideas would that be?" She giggled.

"You know very well what I mean."

"It seems to me that you are scared of what you might do to me if you become too intoxicated."

He gulped down the rest of the whiskey quickly and turned to look at her, pursing his lips, he let out a puff of hot air in frustration.

She smirked as she watched him go into the kitchen and pour himself another glass full. He then came back into the room and took a seat on the couch.

She came up behind the couch, "here, how 'bout a shoulder rub." She began rubbing his masculine shoulder muscles and blades.

He sighed, "Ramona." The buzz he had going, relaxed him and made him not care that he was letting her rub his shoulders. In fact, he actually liked and appreciated it.

She suddenly found herself thinking intimately about him. Hearing him sigh made her imagination run wild of possibilities. She brought her thumbs up to his neck, massaging the largest muscles on the sides of his neck.

He eventually stopped her when he reached to grab her hand away from his neck and held it in his hand, bringing it barely to touch his lips, he whispered. "Ramona."

She paused.

"Come here." He said softly.

She came to take a seat beside him as she turned toward him. He was now looking down at his knees quietly and then looked up at her. "Oh, god. I'm drunk now." He released his empty glass and set it clumsily on the other sofa beside him.

"That be fine, darling. Let me help with that." She laid a hand on his thigh and and rubbed up to touch him.

He closed his eyes and parted his lips. She moved to mouth his neck slowly while he rested his head on the back of the couch. "Ohh."

 

~:~

 

He woke up in bed, disoriented and dehydrated. "Huh?" He glanced around the room and saw that he was alone with the door closed. His eyes widened when he realized he was without a shirt, but was wearing lounge pants. He didn't even remember putting them on. He glanced at the nightstand beside his bed and saw a tall glass of water and two aspirins sitting beside it. His dark brows furrowed in confusion and anxiety kicked into facing the consequences of what happened. He gulped and closed his eyes in dread as the last thing he remembered came back to him. He had had two glasses of straight whiskey and was wasted on the couch, and was for some reason letting Ramona kiss his neck and touch him in inappropriate intimate areas. "Oh my god." His heart beat began to race as he wondered where Susan was. Did she place the water and pills out for him. Was it Ramona? Whoever it was, they obviously knew that he would need them in the morning because of a massive hangover. He felt terrified to open his bedroom door and see who was out there, if anyone was. The fact that he might have let himself go and sleep with Ramona, he knew that Susan would probably never forgive him and would go through with her threats of leaving and never coming back.

 

"Okay. I'll calm down," he talked aloud to himself, "and take the water, the pills and then get dressed. One step at a time."

So, that's what he did. After he drank the entire glass full of water, he got up to search his wardrobe. He got down a nice unwrinkled shirt and changed his lounge pants into trousers. He let out a heavy sigh as he caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He stared blankly at his reflection for five seconds, until a wave of anger came over him, making him heave a growl and grit his teeth. He turned on the faucet, picked up his black comb that had been sitting on the counter and ran it through the stream of water. He then fixed his parted dark hair up with the comb. He brought a hand to his overnight beard that was just beginning to grow, and quickly got his shaving cream out and patted it onto his face. He felt like he couldn't let the women in the house see him looking as dirty on the outside (with a five o'clock shadow) as he felt on the inside. He took the razor to his cheek and ran it down his face, then rinsed it through the running water of the sink. He had shaved most of his face, but when he got to his throat, to shave the small amount under his chin, he froze, with the blade to his throat, he had the dark thought of slitting it, in the attempt to punish himself. "God." He dropped the razor into the sink, put his hand to his forehead and rubbed it abrasively and hard in disgust of himself. He squeezed his eyes closed as a flashback came back to him, making him unsure if it happened or if he perhaps dreamed it.

_-He rubbed his hands down her arms and slid them to her wrists, he then put them over her head, fastening her wrists together as he got on top of her. He mouthed her neck hard as he let go of her wrists in order to grab a hold of her bare shoulders. She then wrapped her arms around his broad frame as she began to rub and scratch his naked back.-_

He shook his head, trying to bring his thoughts back to the present. He couldn't even remember who the woman was. Was it Ramona? He felt sick to his stomach of the fact that he didn't know for sure. "What was I _thinking_ drinking so much?" One thing he knew for sure... that it was the last time.

He gave himself one more blank stare in the mirror. After all of his primping, he looked a polished, groomed and clean-cut of a man on the outside, but he felt utterly dirty inside of his head.

 

 


	23. A Kiss for You, and a Jewel for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wakes up to "face the music" on regards to what happened last night with Ramona. Then, he decides to take a stroll in the New York City streets, unintentionally to have a glimmer catch his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know it's been months since I've uploaded a new chapter. My apologies. Hope you enjoy this one I've had going for a while now and can finally publish!

Tommy got up the courage to make his departure from his bedroom to “face the music” outside of it. He wondered if Susan was even there. She might've taken her packed suitcase and have just left. _'What do I care if she's gone or not. I don't care about her.'_ He told himself as he gulped, took a deep breath and opened his bedroom door. He quickly looked around, anxiously, first noticing the empty kitchen, then he turned his head to the right to see Susan alone, seated on the couch in the living room and leaning forward to hold onto the page of an open yellow pages book.

He quietly made his way to stand next to the couch. He cleared his throat to get her attention. “ _Ahem_ , good morning, Susan.” He tried to pretend like he wasn't nervous and was innocent of any “crime” that he may have committed the evening before during his blackout.

She looked up at him, blankly then looked back down, “is it?” She appeared a little upset and made him even more worried to know what she was going to say.

“Susan, I- I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Making out on the couch with pregnant Ramona Bartenelli?” She pursed her lips sternly.

He blinked hard from her candidness. “What? Is- is that all we did?”

“Well, your hands were all over each other as well. Is that what you get off on hearing?”

He sighed, “I mean you stopped us from going, um, _further_ , right?”

“Of course I did!” She stood up from the couch to face him, offensively. “Do you actually think I would just go back into the bedroom while you guys were getting it on on the couch? Gross!”

“Susan,” he grabbed her by the arm. “Stop yelling. I know you're angry with me. But, I was wasted and I don't remember what happened! I don't even recall exactly how I got into bed!”

“You stumbled into it!”

He looked down at the ground without a word.

She handed him the yellow-pages book by shoving it into his chest harshly. “Here. I found some rehab centers and highlighted them for you... under 'A' for addictions.”

He licked his bottom lip and looked annoyed as he turned around to follow her. “Rehab centers?”

“Yes, you know... for your addictions.”

“I told you I'm going off alcohol, gradually.”

“Heh, not just alcohol, Tommy. Rehab for your sex addiction as well.”

He chuckled tensely, “my-y-y- my what?”

“Yes, Tommy. Your sex life is out of control. It's a fact.”

He felt extremely angered... thinking about how Susan, the girl who kept trying to get him into bed for about a year, and now that she had finally “scored” one with him, was now accusing him of being an addict after she was the who pressured him into it?

“It was only Ramona and you, recently.” He tried to control his rage as he lowered his voice deeply while he turned to watch her go into the kitchen.

In her highly caffeinated buzz, she, probably not thinking straight, began putting on a second pot of coffee (after she had finished an entire pot herself before he had gotten out of bed).

“Look, Susan.” He followed her into the kitchen and stood beside her. “I'm not as bad as you think I am. I never slept with Lana for God's sake!”

She raised an eyebrow while glancing at him, “and the only reason why you _didn't,_ was because you were trying so desperately to build tension between the two of you. You wanted her ba-a-ad, remember? But, you were trying to make her want _you_ even more so that she'd come begging for even a _touch_ from you... and you could have her at your _sick_ mercy and, of course,” she sighed, hopelessly, “play with her heart all at the same time.” She finished preparing the coffee machine and quickly pressed the button, then crossed her arms to look him in the eye seriously.

His lips were parted in an amazed expression as he froze.

She smirked, “You're shocked that I know your tactics so well?”

“Susan, I know that alcohol and women don't mix well together and get me into trouble, but I'm not a- a- a God-forbidden sex addict! Come on, you can't be serious.”

She quickly turned to face him. “I _am_ serious.”

“Susan, I can't help the fact that Ramona and I-”

“What? Please don't say, you can't help that you have sexual tension with every woman you come in contact with. Is that what you were going to say?”

He frowned, “Come on, you know I was kidding when I made that remark. God, you're ridiculous!” He crossed his arms with the yellow pages pressed to his chest as he confronted her with a glare.

She leaned against the counter to receive his glare as she then repaid him with the same.

 

He finally broke the competitive stare as he sighed, rolling his eyes away from her. “I just- I hate what Ramona does to me. I don't condone it, but I can't control it either.”

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “Say that again.”

He frowned, confusedly.

“Repeat what you just said.”

“I- I can't-”

“You said you 'can't _control_ it'? That just proves my point, Tommy. You need help!”

He stared back at her, relieving a gulp. “I'm going into town.” He turned from her and headed to the counter in order to grab his wallet, and then coat and tweed, flat cap from the coat tree.

“Wait.” She called.

He stuffed the wallet into his back pocket, put on the long coat and adjusted the hat onto his head. He stared at her blankly as she came up to him while he readjusted his coat a little more.

“Tommy, I'm- I'm sorry if you feel like I'm... _nagging_ you.”

“What... we're not married. So, you can't be the infamous 'nagging wife'- now, can you?”

“I'm just trying to look out for you.” She immediately bit her tongue, just imagining his probable retort like _'do me a favor- look out for yourself',_ but surprisingly enough, it never came.

He stepped closer to her in order to place a hand on her shoulder. “That's fine, but... I'm not going to be drinking anymore. So, you need no longer care, _honey_.”

“You're not?” She tried to ignore the tone of his patronizable, _'_ honey _'._

He sighed. “No. I need control back into my life.”

“Wait, what about the other thing?”

“What other thing?” He frowned, “oh. You mean you expect me to be abstinent the rest of my life?”

A smile came to her face as she couldn't help but let out a squeal and jumped into his arms in order to squeeze him in an embrace. “Oh, thank you, Tommy. I can't wait to see you doing better again!”

He felt a little uncomfortable as he didn't know how to respond to her spout of affection as he patted her back unreceptively, wishing he hadn't said anything, in case he was triggered to go back on his word.

She released her hold on him as she backed up enough to look at his face, wondering what he was thinking.

He glanced down at her lips, then pulled her toward him and again pressed her against his body, as if he changed his mind. He wrapped his arms around her frame firmly, feeling her warmth colliding with his. After a moment, they both released the hold and he cocked his head, then leaned into kiss her. The kiss lasted about five seconds. When they both leaned back again, he licked his lips, gave her a reassuring nod before opening the apartment door and taking his leave.

She stood there, alone, not sure what to make of it. She hardly remembered his holding her like that before. It felt so all-encompassing, like she had been swaddled in a tight blanket... and the kiss... it was such a soft, gentle, and random kiss that she wouldn't have expected it from him in a life-time. Was this finally the turning point for them in their relationship? Was this what he needed for his wake up call and desire to get his life together? Would she see more of this side of him in the future? She placed a couple fingers to her lips with mixed feelings of romanticism and wonder as she pondered what he must be feeling right now about her.

 

~:~

 

Tommy walked down New York City's streets. He passed various clothing shops, cafes, bars, (which he almost found his way inside one, but kicked himself to continue along)... until he saw a beautiful sapphire stoned, short necklace peaking out from a mannequin's chest. He stopped right outside the women's boutique window and stared at the refulgent gem.

The red-headed, older woman, working there, noticed him and came out to greet him, cordially. “You like that necklace, _aye_? Just came in yeste'day mornin'. I fine gem, in'nt?” She had a slight Irish accent.

“Yes, it's very nice. How much?”

“By the looks of yuh, just in yer pocket range.”

He glanced down at his own outfit, not sure of what she saw of him that made him look like he had money. But, he'd be lying if he said he didn't still have some inheritance saved up to prove her judgement was accurate.

“Five-thousand dollars.” She said.

“I'm cheap.”

The lady shook her head with a grin. “Forty-five hundred?”

He crossed his arms and pursed his lips, exhibiting to her that he was worldly.

“Here, I'll throw in the bracelet to match for the forty-five.”

“How much is the bracelet worth?”

“Oh, about one-thousand.”

“One-thou-” He bit his bottom lip.

“Here,” she smiled indefatigably, “let us discuss this, here, business inside.... mo'e privately, sir.”

 

~:~

 

A knock sounded on Lana's condominium door. She got up from off the couch, while writing an article for work and headed to her door. She didn't bother checking to see who it was through the peep-hole. When she opened it to see Tommy standing there, dressed nicely and fittingly for the New York City streets, flat cap and long overcoat, she was bedazzled. She hadn't expected to be caught in his presence ever again.

“Uh, Bruce! Hello.” She gulped, a little bit, apprehensively. “What brings you here?” She smoothed a strand of her dark brunette hair behind her ear, subconsciously trying to make her appearance presentable for his company.

“Hi. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

“Also, to give you this.” He pulled out a small red, rectangular box.

Lana's eye grew large, “wow. A gift for me?”

He grinned, “may I?”

“Oh, of course.” She stepped back, away from the door in order to allow him inside. “Here, I'll take your hat and coat.”

He took off his articles of clothing and she placed them inside of her coat closet by the door. He glanced around her nice, clean and inviting condominium which was decorated in olive green and burgundy. “Nice place...” he turned to face her, “for a journalist's salary.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “do I sense a slight bit of jealousy?”

“ _Heh_ , gotta admit, your place is nicer than mine.”

“Thank you. Here, take a seat.” She motioned toward the couch in the living room.

 

After they both sat down. He bit his bottom lip and handed her the little red box in his hand.

She smiled, “thank you, Bruce. You didn't have to.” She quickly opened it, unraveled the golden tissue paper and found inside, the beautiful, shimmering sapphire necklace. She gasped, “oh, my goodness! It's beautiful.” She smiled, brightly and hesitated to give him a hug.

He noticed her uncertainty, so he leaned in to let her give him a small squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She struggled, trying to put the necklace on because of its short length. “Do- um, do you mind putting it on me?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, of course.”

She turned her back toward him and scooted closer toward his lap.

He turned to get closer behind her as he took the necklace from her hands, brought it around her delicate, smooth neck and tried clasping it from behind. His hands were shaking slightly from his alcohol-withdrawal as he tried hooking it, and kept missing the hole to fasten it.

“What's wrong?” She asked softly as she noticed the lengthy bit of time.

“Um, just a second.” He held back a sigh of anguish as he pursed his lips, completely frustrated with himself for not being able to control his shakiness. Once he got it clasped he rested a hand on her shoulder, touching her silk, blue, tanked-blouse sleeve. He sighed onto her neck with relief, secretly studying and admiring her soft, delicate neck and shoulders. “There.”

He sensed she must've felt the same attraction vibrating as her breathing quickened at his touch and she craned her neck slightly, and perhaps, he thought, subtly inviting him to get closer.

He froze as he watched her blood pulsing through her carotid artery. He thought about what Susan said. Was he an addict? He yearned to touch her and taste her skin. Lana was unbelievably an attractive woman to him. Despite how he pretended not to care about her. He liked how feisty, strong-spirited, independent, and witty of a woman she was. She would also flirt back with him when he needed a little ego-stroking of his sexual prowess, which he of course favored. Then he remembered, disappointingly, the one time that they did make out, (besides when they were twelve) she had a real sense of self-controlled, fashion of kissing. He thought that she must've been a lioness in bed secretly, but felt like it wasn't feminine to be wild with her true desires. If she only knew that it was quite the desirable contrary to him. He figured, she must have not known what good sex felt like. All her other boyfriends probably only focused on satisfying themselves quickly, and didn't take the time to take it at a more natural, rhythmic pace while she subjected her body, trusting him to deeply penetrate her with thoughtful purpose for intense gratification. He wanted to profoundly be the one to bring that lioness out of her. He felt that they could experience the most hot and heavy sex possible if she just let herself go and experience what his body could do for her. He felt himself turned on by just fantasizing about it, but, he quenched his dirty thoughts. “Mm.” He stood up, trying to hide his hard-on erection, “uh, I h-have to go. I- I just came to give you that and- and apologize.”

“Apologize? You mean for the way you were acting after you broke up with me?”

“Uh, yes.” He stared at her.

“Well, umm, your apology is gladly accepted, Bruce.”

He gave a few glances around her apartment, unconcernedly. “I'm relieved.”

“Um, do you want to stay for dinner? I had spaghetti planned in an hour.” She offered, nicely.

“Uh, that's generous of you, but I don't think that's such a good idea.”

She frowned slightly, “why not?”

He fixed her with strong eye contact as he questioned her true agenda.

“Look, I know you broke up with me. I'm not expecting you to change your mind over dinner. It's only platonic, Bruce.”

He chuckled nervously, running his hand through his dark hair. “Right.” He immediately felt ashamed for thinking inappropriately about her a moment earlier when her feminine pheromones triggered him while he was seated close behind her. _'Shit'._ Despite his self-retribution, he licked his bottom lip and smiled, “I'd love to have to dinner with you, Lana.”

A big smile came straight to her face at the surprising statement and hearing the beautiful sound of her name run so smoothly through his low voice.

 

~:~

 

She leaned against the counter beside him, watching him chop some celery as she sighed with contentment at the sight of the fine-looking man, combined with the euphoria of her second glass of wine starting to pay off. “Are you sure you don't want a glass?”

He paused in his chop as he thought about her offer, and then, Susan came to mind and how worried she was about him. He told her he would quit. This was it. After what happened with Ramona last night! He turned to look at Lana. “I could say screw it and cater to my desire, but, you know, there's Susan back at my place, all up in my business on getting sober.”

She looked at him. “'Mm.”

“What? You're disappointed?” A small grin crept to his lips.

“N-no. She's right. You can be pretty mean when you're wasted.”

He stopped chopping to look at her, a slight grievance suddenly revealed on his face. “Give me your glass.”

She frowned, but handed it to _him_ obediently.

He brought the glass to his mouth and took down a long few sips and then handed the rest back to her.

She raised her dark eyebrows in surprise. “Well?”

“As good as _cabernet_ can be. I'm more of a whiskey fan myself.” He began chopping carrots.

She chuckled, “of course you are,” nudging his arm playfully.

“Damn it,” he looked down at the knife in his hand, “I could've chopped off my finger because of you.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” her eyes widened in sympathy as she quickly looked to see if he was okay.

He immediately grinned as he looked at her. “I'm kidding. You're fine.”

“Oh, geez!”

He sighed, “more than fine actually.” He wondered if she caught onto his indirectly paying her a sneaky compliment as he held her eye contact.

She stared back at him for a few seconds, and then licked her lips and stepped back. “I'll-uh, check on the spaghetti.”

 

When the meal was prepared and they were both seated at her small table for two, she started the conversation after she poured herself another glass of wine. “Weren't we something in high school?”

He paused while taking a sip of his water. _'Uh, crap! Is she meaning Bruce and her or Tommy?!'_

“You and I. We liked each other, didn't we?” She was persistent at getting a validation from him.

“Um,” he glanced down into his lap, then looked up at her and shrugged. “Honestly, in high school, I liked a lot of girls. I don't remember.”

“Oh, really?” She grinned, “so, I wasn't very memorable then, huh?”

He frowned, “did we sleep together or something?”

She almost spit out her swallow of wine, she then managed to take a breath. “Oh, no. I think I would have remembered that!”

“Oh, sorry for the loathsome inquiry, I just wanted to make sure.” He chuckled nervously.

She took another sip of her red wine and stared at him with a subtle smirk. “Why would it matter?”

“Well, we were teenage fools, weren't we? I made a lot of mistakes.”

She gasped, “ouch.”

He quickly looked at her. “N-no, sorry. I just mean, I was really a jerk in high school, and exhaustively, uh—played the field.”

“Oh, yes. I know you did. You exhausted your potent resources regularly, I'm sure.” She smirked, raising her wine glass to her lips.

His slight frown grew into a smile. “Wow. Man, you're quite the stealthy woman, aren't you?”

She giggled, taking another sip of her red wine.

“Now, if you keep talking inappropriately to me, there might be consequences.”

She smirked, “ _consequences_? I don't know if I mind.” 

He chuckled, rubbing his knee hard underneath the table as he glanced down into his lap.

“You know, Bruce—you seem... _different_ this afternoon.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when you ran into me yesterday, you were acting like you hadn't seen me since high school and you were very also, um—very withdrawn.”

His eyes grew large as he thought,  _'was I drinking that much that I don't remember talking to her yesterday?... Wait, a second...'_ The dreaded question started to come to his mind.  _'N-noo, it couldn't be. He wouldn't be here in New York City. But—what if?'_

“Bruce?”

“What did you just say?”

“Uh—your _name_.. Bruce.”

 

 

 


End file.
